Pretender
by Eric Draven201
Summary: Uncle Sam wants Dante to slay the demons that he created. Will he accept? Rated for vulgar language and mild violence.
1. Invitation

**A/N:** They say that one should write from experience and in doing so, the settings in my stories have been in and around the Washington, D.C. Metropolitan area. So, a lot of things will occur in _real_ places near my home.

**Disclaimer:** I own the psycho chick and **not** Dante/Tony… and Capcom owns us all. Oh... Lest I forget, I don't own the smells and fragrances (you'll understand once you read).

With that said… on to our feature presentation.

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Pretender

Chapter One: Invitation

Snow fell upon this place, swirling and drifting carelessly on the wind. One flake managed to drift farther than his brethren just into a subway station. Sustained by only the chill in the air, it floated even farther before it landed on the hooded head of a beggar boy.

He sat Indian-styled on the station's cold earthen-tiled floor expertly playing his brown and black acoustic guitar. He appeared to be no older than seventeen. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a fitted black tee shirt, and an unzipped black cotton, hooded sweat jacket lined in ruby red. His tan suede boots lay tucked under his knees, half laced.

His wares were obviously insufficient for braving the elements. Surely he would catch his death of cold dressed this way.

His pale fingers gingerly played a myriad of Holiday songs and even some rock versions of those songs. He sang his favorites. Many a passersby gathered to sing along to his accompaniment or toss some change in his open guitar case. Occasionally, he would lift his head to face his gracious donors with a smile and a "thank you" from behind his dark sunglasses.

There was no doubt that he was good at his craft.

Once he finished his rendition of John Lennon's "Happy Xmas" he asked, "Has anyone got the time?"

"8:29," a male audience member called out.

"Looks like I have to get going," the boy said. There were collective groans from the people who flocked around to see him play.

"You never know, I maybe back tomorrow," he said to calm the crowd. He stood and gave a slight bow and said, "Thanks again, y'all have been great." And with that, they dispersed.

The boy crouched and groped around to gather his things. He packed up his guitar and obscenely large duffel bag, unfurled his white, black, and red collapsible billy-cane and made his way down the train platform. Click, clack went the rhythmic tapping of his cane on the tiles, guiding him to the other end of the platform. He stopped and there he waited patiently for his train.

The crowds had already left and for awhile, he was alone.

Or so he thought.

He could sense others around him. There were about five men in total. An assortment of deodorants and colognes gave away their positions. The one that smelled of Axe led the pack at about ten feet away near a pillar. The others covered in Right Guard, Tag, Old Spice and another the teenager couldn't quite place, trailed at about twenty feet next to a set of escalators.

The boy pretended to ignore them as they silently closed in.

He placed his guitar case and bag on the floor next to his feet. He then crouched down and feigned tying his shoe. The Axe scented man was now directly behind the boy.

He placed a massive hand on the teen's right shoulder. The others flanked him with guns trained on his head. The boy shrugged and said, "I shoulda known you'd try to sneak up from behind."

"I see that you are as witty as ever. Isn't that right Tony? Or should I call you... Dante," the Axe man said.

"Don't know what you are talking about."

"The hell you don't," the man said snatching the hood off the youngster's head, revealing a shaggy mop of snow-white.

"I guess you caught me," Dante grinned pulling off the shades, tucking them away into a pocket.

Dante slowly rose to his feet with the cane still in hand. _Let's not give them any reason to pump me full of lead_, he thought.

"At any rate, your presence is requested," the Axe man continued, feigning cordiality, "by the President of the United States."

"How many times do I have tell you guys...? NO!"

"It is NOT an option."

Out of the corner of his hazel-blue eye, he saw an unsteady hand grasping a government issue Beretta. He had clutched the handle so hard that his knuckles began to turn white.

Either he was very afraid of Dante or this was his first time in the field. Dante suspected the former. He knew that it wouldn't take much for this man to lose what little composure he had and start firing his gun wildly. It had been a slow night and a little excitement would do him some good.

The very idea etched a grin on Dante's face. His smile made the man tremble even more, if that was at all possible.

With a swift tug, Dante made the cane fold up on itself. The shaky man fired a round at Dante's head. He didn't even attempt at a dodge. Although he knew that he was in for a world of pain, Dante allowed the bullet to hit him.

He head snapped forward and to the right and he fell in the same direction. He face-planted the floor, hard and he was pretty sure the tiles had imprinted themselves on his cheek. It hurt, but he was shooting for realistic.

"You IDIOT! You just shot a blind kid," shouted the man drenched in Old Spice.

_Oh... If they only knew._

"I – I – I –" The shaky man reeking of cheap cologne could scarcely speak.

By this time the other men had lowered their weapons and clamored around the boy.

As for Dante, getting shot in the head was never deadly, but it was always a crap shoot. There was the chance that he'd pass out, become amnesic, go deaf or even blind. Of course the effects were temporary.

He once got shot during a mission by a trigger happy mercenary. He went blind and forgot his name for awhile (not so good for a demon slayer). Dante kept the cane from back then, just in case.

So far he was very much aware of his surroundings, he remembered what just happened and his name and he could hear the men pacing back and forth... So far, so good. He would have to test the blindness thing out later.

Dante kept his eyes shut and paid close attention to the sounds the men made. He could sense someone approaching to check his pulse. _Cortaid or radial? No matter._ He smiled internally.

One advantage he had as a half-demon was complete control of his body's biofeedback rhythms. When needed, he can slow his breathing and heart rate to a near stop in order to conserve energy.

"Oh God, there's so much blood," the Right Guard man said.

He reached down for a neck pulse and said, "No good. His pulse is very faint... I don't think this kid's gonna make it."

_And the award goes to... _

The regret in his voice betrayed to Dante that the man had someone at home very close to his own age.

Dante felt some remorse in putting these men though unnecessary stress. And there was indeed stress. He could hear it in their voices, their steps, and even their heartbeats.

Well, all but one. Someone in this group was extremely calm and it unnerved him a bit. He didn't smell fear... only Axe. And it was getting closer.

_This has gone on long enough... It's now or never._

Dante gripped his folded cane and windmill-kicked his way to his feet. He shook his blood-soaked hair out of his eyes and stood in a fighting stance.

The men were dumbfounded; their collective thoughts migrated from: _It's a miracle _to _Oh, Shi-!_

He slung the cane out like whip, hitting two men in the chest. He then unfolded again with a shake and allowed it to lock in place. Dante made a low, round sweeping motion tripping the others. He began swinging it around like sword, landing blows with a _thwack_.

He unleashed a series of powerful kicks and punches. Just enough to beat these guys back and not kill them.

When the dust settled, Dante tossed the cane aside, grabbed his duffel bag and case and made a break for the escalator. He was too busy running to notice that there were only four men rolling on the floor, groaning in pain.

He made his way to the Mezzanine before seeing the small projectile hurtling towards him. He quickly dodged it and looked to see Axe man holding what appeared to be a sniper rifle.

He dropped behind a Plexiglass ad frame. Dante felt safe here, at least for now. Axe man couldn't have been using real rounds, because there was no damage to the floor where it hit.

Unless his opponent had a penchant for bb's, the only other type of "non-collateral damage" ammo that came to Dante's mind was tranquilizer darts. _Do they really want me that bad?_

"You know dude," Dante shouted readying Ebony, "roofies aren't my cup of tea. If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask!"

Dante poked his head around the corner. Axe fired another round. Dante snatched his head back and saw a dart embed itself in the frame mere centimeters where his face had been.

He now had idea of where the man was standing. Dante was ready to take the shot. He stood, rounded Ebony around the corner and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet spiral out of the chamber and made its way to Axe.

At the same time Dante could feel another presence behind him. Odorless, soundless... but there nonetheless. He had no time to react... the same as Axe. No time to register the pain.

He could see the bullet slam into the man's shoulder, shattering bones. The man was sent to the floor screaming. _Pussy_, he thought.

His attention was then brought to the knife protruding from his chest with small caramel fingers wrapped around it. It wasn't a knife really, more like a large syringe with a serrated blade instead of a needle; a faster albeit interesting delivery system.

Dante noticed a purple liquid drain out of the syringe and into his body. It burned in his veins like acid with each heartbeat.

His sense dulled and muscles weakened. He could no longer support his own head. It dropped down, chin to chest. From there he spied blood spilling past his soaked shirt and dripping to stain his jeans and boots.

Dante's legs suddenly went numb. He was safely guided to the floor and on his back. Quiet wheezing could be heard from him.

He looked up to see the owner of the light brown hands. Her face was fading in and out of focus.

She had slightly chubby, cherubial features framed by neck-lenghthed mocha colored hair; a beautiful girl in her own right. She had kind cinnamon colored eyes and a surprisingly husky, but soothing voice.

"Shh... It's okay. Don't try and fight it. It will all be over soon," she whispered stroking his hair.

Dante may have had a serene look on his face, but his mind was racing. _Where the hell did she come from? How come I didn't sense her earlier? What is this stuff?_

"Yes, target acquired," she spoke into a headset, "Its taking longer than expected. He's fighting the serum."

It continued to course through his system. Soon he wasn't sure if he was still holding Ebony or not. Even his face began to numb.

_I can't breathe. I'm really going to die here, aren't I? Oh, Well... It was good run while it lasted._

With that final thought, Dante succumbed to unconsciousness.

"Are you sure he'll be alright? That was enough to take out an elephant... You're right; we _will_ do well with someone of his talents," she said glancing back at Dante's unconscious body.

"Chimera, out," She said into the headset.

She bent over and kissed Dante whispering, "Sweet dreams, sweet prince." She then harshly yanked out the syringe.

Seemingly out of nowhere, more men appeared to collect the young slayer. Within moments his body was restrained in heavy, prison "Y" shackles, connecting his wrists and ankles. He was then transferred to a gurney and everyone and all evidence of the event were gone.

Civilians walked through Union Station completely unaware of what had just transpired.

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Ooooh... I wonder where they are taking him. Stay tuned and find out. 

Before the questions: Yes, the story is named for the Foo Foo Fighters song.

I would like to say that its great to be back... I was gettin' all jealous of the fics everyone was posting. I do plan to update this and others soon since school's out.

Oh! BTW: My research paper on our very own Dante earned me an "A" in my English class. (Wonder if I'm allowed to post it?)

_Reviews?_


	2. The Handler

_I don't own DMC and there are some not too vulgar curse word peppered in so I don't think any one will be offended. If you are... I dunno... let me know about maybe I'll change something. I'm not here to offend my readers. Also... a couple of favors, any mistakes... point 'em out and Review, review, review!_

_Thanks to all my reviewers and whoever added the story._

**Aru AND Vampire Queen: **Thank you and I'll try to keep my updates speedy.

**SatanicParkOfMadness: **I know, I know... I will do my best not to let you down.

**Lady Luce:** Thanks so much! You're right; she does remind me of a crazed fan girl. Imagine that Dante gets stabbed and kidnapped by a fan girl... great idea for a one shot.

**Olivia:** I couldn't believe it either. The paper was an assignment to compare a given story and character to past myths and legends.

I shall be posting the paper.

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Chapter Two: The Handler 

Dante lay floating, out there, alone in the darkness. His arms and legs felt weighted. He tried to shout and wiggle his toes, to no avail. It was as if the darkness swallowed all light, movement, and sound. It was only he and the cold weights against his wrists and ankles.

_Cold. So I can feel? I guess I'm not dead then._

A few moments later, he could hear low, muffled voices. They were so distorted that he couldn't understand what they were saying.

A sensation of icy metal and soft hands rippled on his chest. The hands smelled like roses.

"Good breath sounds," a woman in a white lab coat said, placing a stethoscope to Dante's bare chest.

She brushed her and across it again and said, "That wound from earlier has healed real nicely; it doesn't look like he'll scar. Besides a slight fever, he's going to be fine." She rolled his shirt back down.

Despite not being able to speak, move or see, Dante felt that familiar, odd presence sit next to him. Its scentless hand stroked his hair. These hands felt kind, almost motherly.

That woman spoke again, shining a penlight into Dante's pupils, "You said he was shot in the head, right? It doesn't look he's had a concussion... though I'd imagine that he'll wake one hell of a headache."

Dante felt something just barely touch the inside of his elbow. Out of reflex, his right arm quickly reached across his chest and grabbed the rose scented woman by the wrist.

He slowly opened his eyes and calmly said, "I don't like needles."

"Ah. So you are awake. I wouldn't have expected it for a few more hours."

"Yeah, well, I'm quicker than others."

He took a small moment to study the woman. She was middle-aged with slight wrinkling near her eyes and graying brunette hair. Her eyes were green and were dull and different to Dante, as if he was merely a test subject to her.

Dante noticed his captor sitting to his right, still stroking his hair. "Well, hello to you too." She didn't answer. She was more interested in the hair.

"Are these chains necessary? I promise to be a good boy," Dante faked a whine.

She didn't answer. He glanced at the brown-skinned girl next to him and said to the woman, "What's her deal?"

The woman answered, "Don't mind her, she's just happy to find another hybrid."

She watched as Dante desperately try to will his fingers to move and offered, "You were injected with a toxin. It's deadly to humans but it acts as a tranquilizer and paralytic agent for hybrids such as you. It will take a while to wear off. I heard that you put up quite a fight..."

She allowed her voice to trail off until she reached the door. "Almost no one does."

She waved a keycard on a small console near the door and exited the room.

The girl stopped playing with Dante's hair and hopped off the bed. She turned to Dante and said, "I am glad you are awake. Maybe Dr. Carmichael will let you 'play' later." She smile and skipped to the door in the fashion a small child would.

"Hey! Why do you call yourself 'Chimera'," Dante asked before she could step out. He didn't know how he knew her name... it just came to him out of the ether. Still it couldn't hurt to ask her... Could it?

"Because... that's what I am. Why do you call yourself Tony? You're not fooling anyone."

Dante hesitated. He honestly didn't know how to answer her. She saw it and left the room too.

_Because_... _that's_ _what_ _I am._ The phrase ran through his head. _What could she mean?_

Everything about this girl was strange. She was clearly around the same age as he, maybe a little older, yet her mannerisms were that of an eight year old. Dante couldn't sense her, let alone smell her, despite that fact she was practically on top of him both times.

He didn't need the old lady to tell him she wasn't completely human. Most humans have a unique smell which most demons or animals for, that matter, could pick up on; no matter how much they bathed or doused themselves with perfume.

Dante found in his short years as a slayer that most demons had an odor of decaying flesh which was far beyond what most humans could smell. In that span, he also found that the most dangerous devils were those who had no smell at all.

His hand twitched a little, just enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

He had regained all sensation in his left hand and had yet to for his right. Dante figured, since he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, he'd better get used to his new "room." He started with the front door.

It seemed to be simple, white steel door with a card reader. Dante was pretty sure that it was reinforced to keep him in. The added security was to keep him chained to the bed and surveilled on camera twenty-four/seven.

There was next, a small living room complete with a beige couch, a fifteen inch television set, and a small oak table in one corner with a couple of chairs.

A small hallway separated his bedroom from the living room. There was a door to the far right of his bed. He suspected that it led to the bathroom.

From what Dante could see, his gilded cage had a nice décor, almost like a hotel room... right down to the beige bed spread he laid on.

He hadn't noticed that someone had bathed and changed him, until he saw his clothes neatly laundered and folded on a black armchair in the corner. For now he was green hospital scrubs.

The thought of Chimera bathing him kind of creeped out Dante. He was actually appreciative that someone took the time to wash the dried blood out of his hair. From experience, blood was a bitch to wash out and if not done carefully, it will leave behind tinges of pink.

Yeah, someone washed his hair... but...

He managed to reach a cuffed hand to feel his hair. _Gah!_ _Damnit!_

Someone had chopped his once nearly-neck lengthed silvery hair to his ears. Gone were his shaggy fringes, exchanged for a modern business look. He saw this in a mirror adjacent to his bed, under a security camera.

His new style was a cross between Ryan Seacrest and a Mormon minister.

_I look like I belong in a cult,_ Dante thought to himself. His thoughts of dismay faded as the console at the door beeped.

Before the door even opened, Dante knew that it was the man that smelled of Right Guard... with the added scent of beer. It was close to completely fading away, so he figured the man had drank it last night and the current time must be early into the evening.

The man walked in carrying a pizza box and some sodas. Dante saw that he had a bandage covering a fresh gash just above his right eyebrow and he walked with a slight limp. Judging by the man's gait, he hadn't broken any bones, it was only a bad sprain.

He was a tall, bald, Black man with big brown eyes. He was dressed in a simple black power suit, similar to the one he wore at the train station.

The man put the pizza and sodas on one end of the bed and began working at unlocking the chains and cuffs. With a click and a clank the restraints were unlocked and piled on the floor.

"Thanks," Dante said rubbing his wrists. The man gave no indication that he heard him. He simply tossed Dante an ice-cold soda.

Honestly, what could the two say to each other? Dante thought about it, but his icebreakers could make the situation much tenser. _Hello old man, sorry about giving you a scare back there. Sorry 'bout hurting you and your buds._

Thankfully, the man spoke up, making Dante feel a little less awkward, "A man can't eat all tied down like that." Dante nodded.

"I'm sorry about –"

Before Dante could get the words out the man waved his hand dismissing Dante's apology.

He began again passing the pizza to Dante, "I won't lie, I was scared... scared that you were going to die right there. I have a boy at home about your age and all I could see was him."

Dante downed his first slice and started on the next, listening to the man.

"They didn't tell me who or what you were, just that there was someone in a train station who was a threat to National Security. Then we saw you playing Christmas songs on an old, beat up guitar," The man let out a mirthless chuckle.

"And I thought to myself, 'Are we really supposed to capture this scrawny, blind kid?' We got the order to move in, with caution. You were standing on the platform and before I knew it, Jones had fired a round and you were lying there bleeding. Kid, you were only defending yourself from a bunch of guys with guns."

A hearty laugh escaped the man's mouth as he continued, "You gave us a hell of beating though. For putting you through all that, I'm sorry."

The man apologized. Dante hadn't expected that. The truth be known, he was actually touched, but he couldn't show it.

"Uh.. Thanks," Dante said quietly, "How's your team leader; the guy who wears _way_ too much Axe?"

"Oh.. Yancey? He's fine, but he'll be out of commission for a while. You managed to destroy just about every bone in his shoulder."

The man glanced at the empty pizza box and joked, "You're not hungry... are you?" Dante chuckled a little nervously. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was.

The man gathered the empty cans and tossed them into the box.

"I didn't introduce myself earlier. My name is Leonard Brown and I will be your handler. You prefer to be called Dante, right?" Dante nodded and the two shook hands.

The man continued, "I am new to this whole world of demons and devils, so I'll be studying up a little." He walked to the armchair and tossed Dante his clothes.

"You'd better get dressed. Chimera and her handler will be here in about ten minutes to brief you." Dante marveled at how his clean his clothes were, especially his boots. They seemed brand new.

He stopped and asked Brown while stripping himself of his shirt, "So... why do you trust me? You were the first to untie me."

"I undid the restraints to let you eat. I like to give most people the benefit of the doubt. You didn't choose to be half-devil or whatever anymore than choosing the color of your own hair. To me, you just another human being. Besides, I don't think that you'd attack unprovoked."

The eloquent answer that Brown gave, made Dante unconsciously fiddle with his amulet. He quickly dressed and met Brown in the living room.

The two left the room and rounded a corridor. The halls were quiet and seemed sterile, like a hospital. "Mr. Brown, what is it exactly that you want me to do."

"Well, I read that you already do this type of thing, but we want you to take it farther. We want you to keep it contained and keep the public ignorant of it."

"I see."

They rounded another corridor, and exited a steel door into a snow covered alley. Dante immediately spied Chimera standing at the end of the alley. She was wearing a pair of form-fitting jeans and an oversized fleece pull over. The sleeves were so long that they easily went past her fingers which rested at her sides. Her hair shimmering with fresh snow was pulled back into a pony tail.

She bent over and playfully flicked snow into the air and said, "So, Dante, you've finally come to 'play'."

_

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_

_That was a strange double or __triple __entendre. It short, not a lot of action... but wait around, there's more to come._

_So, did you like it... did you hate it? Let me know._

_Please review!_


	3. The Other

_**A/N: **__Whew! Another update done. I had a meltdown and I honestly wanted to delete it all, but I think I turned it around. I think that my fight sequence need to be more detailed. What do you think? I am little jealous because a lot of people here are much young than me and a better at action._

_**I don't own DMC, so don't try it Capcom! I majored in Law a while ago!**_

_Thank-you reviewers!_

**Nerk123, Chrome, Darian, AND Satanic Park Of Madness: **I am glad you all liked it and this too, goes out to you!

**GWolf**: I honestly considered it:) But some folks'll beat me up because this is a pre-DMC 3 fic and it would non-canonical. I think that you may still like it. The cake thing was cute... I reminded of Portal for Xbox 360, where the robot thing offers you cake if you beat the game. Are you trying to butter me up with the last thing you said?

**Silentdeath Bringer AND ****Lady Luce: **Let's see about the hair... I dunno. My sad, twisted little mind try think of little ways to piss Dante off. He has gorgeous hair... so he'll get it back.

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Chapter Three: The Other 

"You ready," she said in a slightly childish tone. Dante brought his left foot out to step down the short set of stairs. At the same time, Brown grasped Dante's shoulder. He looked up to see Brown slowly shake his head in caution.

"Be careful out there Dante. Don't be hasty. I doubt that you are back to your normal self and you have no idea what kind of tricks she might have up her sleeves. Just remember, she is more than just a kid with a few screws loose."

"I can take her," Dante said with a grin while popping his knuckles.

Dante began his trip down the snow covered alley. He concentrated on nothing but the crunch of snow under his boots and the girl before him.

She stood at bout five feet and three inches. Understandably, the clothes in conjunction with the amount of snow she stood in made her seem even shorter. She was by no means a lean girl. Despite her height she managed to weigh in at about one hundred fifty pounds; only ten pounds lighter than Dante himself.

Her weight was not a hindrance. She had great stamina and could keep up with the best of them. Given her body type, she only seemed a little chubby, a cute chubby... like a baby.

"I'm not in the habit of beating up little girls," Dante called out.

"Oh... Gee. What a pity," the girl pouted. She straightened up and said, "'Cus I'm not above beating up little boys."

Anger briefly flashed in Dante's eyes. _No one calls me a little boy!_

The girl placed her hands together and performed three hand signs in rapid succession. The first was the "ox," her left hand was straight and parallel to the ground with her fingers evenly spaced. This was while her right intertwined with the left. On her right hand, the index and pinky fingers stood straight up while the middle and ring fingers folded over the left hand's knuckles.

Next was the "hare" where the hands paralleled horizontally. Her right pinky slid between the left pointer and thumb. Finally the "monkey" where the right palm simply rested on the left.

Dante didn't know what the hand signs meant, but he _knew_ that they spelled trouble. By instinct, he lowered himself slightly to fighting stance despite still being a considerable distance from her.

He watched her in what seemed like slow motion. She spread her legs shoulder width apart and hunched her back a bit. She then fully extended her right arm downward, nearly touching the ground.

_Is she a ranged fighter or a close combatant? Should I stay away or get up close and personal?_ The questions may have seemed silly to bring up as Chimera geared up for an attack, but they were very important. Dante considered it carefully. He should have thought about it before he stepped into the fight. But you know Dante... he's just a little headstrong.

He watched as a crackling black orb grew in her extended hand. "Chidori," she screamed.

She raced towards him. All Dante could hear was the hellish chattering of birds... no... bats emanating from the ominous orb.

Once about ten feet away from Dante, she brought her arm up and back to build momentum in order to dig the orb straight through the silver haired slayer.

She moved in closer and for some reason Dante remained rooted in position.

Chimera brought her arm forward and the orb fizzled out in her hand with a "poof," less than a foot from Dante. He stared at the girl slightly confused.

She then dropped on the ground laughing hysterically. Now Dante was even more confused. He stared at the girl rolling around in the snow deep into the throws of her own high-pitched squeals.

Between gasps and laughs, she managed to say, "I've...got to stop... watching Naruto! Ha! That shit doesn't even work! Heh... Chidori."

It looked pretty real to Dante. He knew that if she had really wanted to, she could have decimated him with that strange orb.

"Stop fooling around," Dante yelled into a growl.

Chimera stopped laughing and looked at Dante with an expression mixed between confusion and disappointment. She asked, "You've never seen Naruto?" Dante just glared at her.

"The anime? You know... the Chidori... thousand birds? Gah! You make me sick!"

She quickly performed and open handed palm thrust into Dante's chest. He was sent flying into a brick wall several feet away, near where Brown was standing.

"You alright, kid," Brown said while helping Dante to stand. He wheezed in response. After having had the wind knocked out of him, this would be an appropriate answer.

She was a powerful one and Dante realized she could have killed him just then.

"This... isn't... fun," the girl screamed, "I don't wanna play anymore! I must end you." She said the latter in an eerily calm tone.

"Will you... shut up," Dante yelled wobbling to his feet.

He more or less embarrassed that he didn't see that coming. Normally, he would have dodged it or did some kind of block. The worse part was that Brown was right; Dante's reflexes had significantly slowed.

Dante combed a hand through his hair, which pissed him off even more.

She gave him a sideways stare. Seemingly out of nowhere, she pulled out a black lacquered wooden object, less than a foot in length. It was beautiful. If Dante wasn't in the midst of battle, he could appreciate the craftsmanship, the stunning, pink cherry blossoms painted across it.

She held one end tightly and pulled at the other, revealing a ten inch blade. It was like a tiny version of a katana.

"You intend to cut me with that vegetable peeler," Dante chuckled.

"No! This is my tantō. My mommy gave it to me... isn't she pretty. Her name is Sakura." Chimera cradled the short sword like a baby.

"I intend..." she began while holding it like a full lengthed katana, "to cut you with _this!_" Chimera brushed a hand against her blade. A black aura surrounded it as it lengthened into an actual-sized katana.

She quickly brought her right foot back and sword upward. A large, purplish black sphere appeared in front of her and hurtled towards Dante. He barely dodged it.

_Judgment Cut! How does she know—?_

"I met a devil once... he tried to use it on me... I learned it and used it on him," she said knowingly. "You thought that was dirty, didn't you?!"

Dante didn't answer her. Honestly, he didn't know whether or not what he'd say would set her off even more. She was unstable enough. For now, her rants kept her in check.

"I assure you, he was far from defenseless," she said, "I'll prove it." She waved a hand across the snow. Blackness stretched across the snow and dispelled just as quickly, revealing Dante's weapons, Rebellion, Ebony and Ivory.

She backed away and allowed him to collect his weapons. They were real... not some trick of a demented child. He only parted with them for a day, but it felt like an eternity. He'd have to dote on his weapons later... for now, he had to deal with Chimera.

Dante expertly swung Rebellion around, with the flick of a wrist. Chimera mimicked Dante and her sword transformed in to a smaller version of Dante's own sword.

_Of course._ Why didn't he think of it before? It perfect made sense. He only needed to look at the blade. The black cloud around it wasn't an evil aura... it was a shadow.

Stare hard enough at it; you could probably see the original tantō within the illusion.

The overall designs she chose were much like Yamato and Rebellion, only that they were shorter and seemed to be constructed in pastel colors, as if it were made for a girl. Somehow, she could make her weapon shadow others.

_That's it! Shadows. She controls shadows_, Dante realized. Shadows are shapeless and can adapt to anything. Adaptation. That is the basis for all shadows. She can adapt to anything.

And Dante saw it when she did his habitual hand flick. He realized one other thing... her shadows are the reason why she caught him and no one else. He'd have to outsmart her in order to outrun her shadow.

That was easier said than done. She may be crazy, but she wasn't stupid.

She performed an upward sweep to catch Dante unawares. He blocked her attack with his own sword, drawing up sparks. Her illusion couldn't accurately be described as such because, just as Dante found, the blows were real enough.

Dante beared down his block and Chimera backed out to attack again. She went for a horizontal strike. She brought her sword up and swung it around. Her came blade came within inches of Dante's face as he dodged it.

Chimera feinted back into a high roundhouse kick. Her heel connected with his jaw, snapping his head back. Dante remained on his feet, but had to step back to nurse his nearly broken jaw. He jumped in again to continue.

The two continue exchanging blows. Chimera used her sword more as so a shield all the while serving other melee attacks. Dante followed suite trying to keep up in his slightly drug-induced state.

Chimera wasn't great in swordplay, but she could hold her own. Her true talents, as Dante learned, were in hand-to-hand combat. Dante was no slouch either; swords and guns were not where his abilities ended. He was trained in traditional martial arts, but he usually opted to use a more street, "rough and tumble" fighting style.

Dante did his own combinations of sweeping, hook, side kicks, and even used Rebellion as a divider to get her to back off, but Chimera wouldn't quit.

He followed up with a series of lunges, jabs, and crosses. All met nothing but air. For a chubby girl, Chimera was very fast.

Luckily, for Dante, Chimera wasn't having much luck in landing any direct hits. Dante was quick and continued to gain more speed as time went on. At times, all Chimera could see was a blur of black and red.

As Dante moved about Chimera with some fancy footwork, her movements seemed to become a little panicked and sloppy. The fact that she was so short didn't help either. All Dante had to do was keep moving, stay outside of her swings and kicks.

As if to mock her, Dante moved within Chimera's reach. She sent out a straight punch for Dante's face. He dropped Rebellion into the snow and caught the girl's punch in mid-swing with his left hand.

He glimpsed the look of surprise in her cinnamon eyes. Dante performed a hook to the side of her head with his right.

He snapped his fist back and let go. He watched as she twirled and fell to the ground, displacing the loose powder in the process. She lay motionless for a long moment.

Dante suddenly felt sorry for Chimera. He rarely ever wanted to help an opponent stand but he inclined to do so now. After all, she may have been crazed, but she was just a girl. _I didn't have to be so rough,_ Dante thought in retrospect.

He watched as her shoulders shuddered. _She's crying._ He reached down to help her up. She stopped shaking and slowly stood on her own. Her brown hair fell out of its ponytail and slunk around her neck.

She turned and faced Dante. He saw and an open gash on her forehead bleeding out over her closed, left eye. She allowed it to drip and catch by her full lips. Chimera licked up the blood and smiled.

Her hair dropped down obscuring the bloody eye. She stared Dante down with the other. He saw her pupil constrict as if someone shined a flashlight into her eye. Her smile widened and her canine teeth grew and sharpened, giving her an animalistic look.

Despite being exhausted, Dante prepared to fight again. He watched as the shadows and the dark areas of the alley seemed to be collected and used to reenergize his opponent.

Dante backed up and saw out of the corner of his eye, a figure land silently behind Chimera.

The figure brought a small syringe filled with the same purple toxin as before and pierced the side of the girl's neck. Instantly, her body relaxed and her face captured that same serene look that Dante wore before.

The figure caught the sleeping girl and gently laid her on the ground. He stepped into the light of a nearby street lamp where Dante could see him.

He stood at the same height and appeared to be the same age as Dante, but he seemed to be a little thinner. He had obsidian hair with piercing, but friendly green eyes. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with a white, long sleeved shirt that nearly blended with his sickly pallor.

Despite the frigid temperatures and snow, the boy wore no shoes.

"I'm late. I am so sorry, Dante," he said in a slight Southern drawl. He held out a hand for a shake.

Dante hesitantly took it and said, "Yeah. Who are you, her handler?"

"No," he said chuckling a bit, "I'm her brother."

_

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_

_Heh... Chidori... sounds like food. I just noticed that I use food a lot to describe characters. I'm so fat!_

_I did a blue-book history test a while ago and I forgot how to right in English. The first part was in Spanish and the sad part is that English __**is **__my first language. I thought I had to share that with you._

_I am seriously lacking in inspiration for snow. It's Winter and we haven't gotten any since that half an inch thing in October. It used to snow all the time. In fact, it is very warm here. It was around 65 degrees all day, today. And I hear that places like Nevada and California have been getting snow, floods, and mudslides. _

_I know... I know... This new guy sounds a lot like "L" from DeathNote, well he's not. The accent thing is that many people in this area have it and I don't. I'm a little jealous._

_OK Shutting up now! reviews?_


	4. Chimera, Chameleon, and the Wizard

Thanks Reviewers:

**lost son of sparda AND Silentdeath Bringer: **_Thanks... I'd thought I would get a laugh or two for that nod to Naruto. _

**Lady Luce:** _It's ok, we're cool... I think that Dante deserves to be thrashed by a girl, well... sometimes._

_For everyone else (I guess): To refresh your memories before we begin... a Frost, is a Blade that controls ice._

_Enjoy the chapter and please review!_

_

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Chapter Four: Chimera, Chameleon, and the Wizard

"Her brother," Dante questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah! Don't you see the resemblance," the boy joked as he turned his face to the side while stoking his chin. "I see that Kayleigh has done a number on you," the boy continued regarding the deep gashes slowly closing on Dante's face.

The boy's words lilted lightly and gracefully on his lips. Dante could clearly see that he was a truly warm person, or very good at playing the part, but to him, there was something rather off-putting in the way the boy spoke. It was polite and cordial, but the prim and properness of it all disturbed him. It reminded him of Vergil.

"You say that you are her brother," Dante began, "but who are you... really? Why are you here?"

Dante was relieved and at the same time bothered by the boy's presence. God only knows what kind of rampage that Chimera would have went on if she were left conscious. What upset Dante more, was that the boy appeared out of out of nowhere, like a ninja and was able to take out the girl so easily.

He was very thin, but not to the point of being a skeletal figure. He probably weighed less than one hundred twenty pounds and he looked like he could be blown away by the slightest breeze.

From what Dante learned tonight, judging a book by its cover may not be so prudent. He wasn't so hasty to pick a fight with this boy.

"Do you mean in the philosophical sense," the boy chuckled.

When he saw that Dante didn't even crack a smile, he decided to begin again, "Well, my name is Gabriel and from the looks of things, I'm saving your ass."

Dante held back the urge to punch Gabriel in his smug face.

"I must say," the raven-haired boy said turning to walk towards Chimera, "you did a bang up job with a quarter. She was right, you _are_ good."

"A quarter? She's a quarter demon," Dante asked in disbelief. He looked absolutely crestfallen and he was somewhat embarrassed that he was nearly done in by someone who had less demonic blood than he.

"I didn't say demon," Gabriel said turning his head back to Dante. A knowing smile crept across his face. "No... Kayleigh is a quarter human."

A chill went down Dante's spine as he began to realize that his opponent held back this entire time. Speechless for the first time in a long while, Dante watched as Gabriel bent down, sheathed the tantō, and gently removed the syringe. Despite the fact that she was much heavier than he, Gabriel picked Chimera up as if she weighed nothing.

He carried her back to the building princess style. His barefooted steps were elegant and exquisite, the same as his manner of speech.

"Come on inside Dante, or else you'll catch a cold. Besides, we have much to talk about."

Gabriel continued on into the building past the hole in the wall created by Dante and Chimera's battle. Dante decided to follow... cautiously. "Dante," Brown said stopping him just shy of the door, "I don't trust that kid. Be careful and don't let yourself get cornered."

Dante nodded in concurrence. "I'll be in touch," Brown said tossing a black cell phone to the silver-haired teen.

With that, the two parted ways and Dante gathered his weapons and "holstered" them. He followed Gabriel inside.

Gabriel led Dante down a series of winding corridors. Gabriel came to a stop at a grey steel door. In an amazing feat of balance and strength, he supported the girl with one arm as he fished a cardkey from his pants pocket. He waved the card in front of the console and the door unlatched.

Gabriel kicked the door open, softly and flipped on the light switch. He continued on inside, possibly to the bedroom and Dante stood at the doorway, slightly taken aback by how nice the room was.

Chimera could kill without a thought and yet surprisingly her room was decidedly _girly_. The room was a mirror image of Dante's room, yet everything was painted and furnished in pastel hues.

The stark white couch in the living/dining area was facing the television to the right. It was covered in an army of plush animals and cartoon characters. Just above the TV was a rack that held many anime DVDs. Dante broke off from his visual tour and wandered in the bedroom where Gabriel had taken Chimera.

Once inside, Dante saw that Gabriel was already wearing pair of tan suede boots and a grey zip-down, hooded sweat jacket.

Dante had also noticed that the girl's half wet and frozen clothes were halfway in a hamper near the bathroom and that she had been redressed in baby blue pajamas. She laid there peacefully in her pink and white canopy bed.

"You'll have to excuse my little sister," Gabriel said, pulling the covers up to her chest, "Kayleigh..." He paused with a smile that told his love and pride for the girl before him.

"... She comes off as aloof sometimes, maybe a little crazy, but she is a sweet, sweet girl. It's not her fault that she is the way she is." He brushed her hair back revealing that her cuts were healed and the blood was cleaned off. He kissed her on the forehead gently.

Dante picked up an oak picture frame from her white wicker night table. There was Gabriel on the left clad in black and Chimera dressed in the same way on the right, but there was someone else there, in the middle.

It was a boy with curly brown hair and hazel eyes that were a perfect mix of brown and green. His skin was a light tan, a little paler than Chimera's complexion. The boy was also dressed in black.

He appeared to be much younger that the two that flanked him.

"Who's the kid," Dante asked.

"That's Jason. He used to be in our team a while back," Gabriel said without glancing at Dante, "I think he was fourteen in that picture."

"Used to be on your team? Do you mean that he was transferred?"

"You could say that." Dante wasn't satisfied with the comment.

"We'd better get going," Gabriel said, "She'll be out of it for a while."

"Where to?"

"Somewhere to talk... away from eyes and ears."

They left the girl's room and snaked through the halls, out the door and into a parking lot sparsely populated by snow covered cars.

Gabriel produced a set of keys and proceeded to unlock a car and brush off the snow that blanketed it. He started the black Government Issue sedan and they were off.

As Gabriel drove, Dante gaze out the window and slowly realized where he was. He could see the silhouette of decommissioned battle ships on the grey night skies. He could smell sewage wafting faintly on the air. They soon passed by well-illuminated tall metal frames, molded into stadium seats.

Dante broke the long silence, speaking to no one in particular, "We were at the Navy Yard this entire time? Huh. So I guess that means that I kidnapped less than ten miles from here."

"They don't like to call it kidnapping," Gabriel corrected, "They think of it more as a draft."

"So… How exactly did you and Chimera come into all this?"

"Eyes and ears, Dante," Gabriel said glancing into his rearview mirror and making a left turn all at once, "eyes and ears."

Gabriel was calm, but his paranoia was beginning to get to Dante. Soon the two were in the downtown area near Chinatown. After some tricky maneuvering, Gabriel found an underground parking space.

He locked up the car and Dante went to grab Rebellion, which lay on the backseat floor. "Leave it," Gabriel said stepping out of the car, "bring the guns and make sure they are well hidden." Dante tucked them in the back of his jeans. _I don't need you to tell me that. I'm not an idiot._

"Leave the cell phone, too," Gabriel called to Dante, "They may be tracking that too."

The two made their way back to surface level. Once on the street, Gabriel turned his hood over his head. It wasn't because of the cold… no… Dante had seen him walk through the snow shoeless. Gabriel did it because he knew something that Dante didn't. Figuring this, Dante followed suit.

The hooded boys walked side by side down the sidewalk, passing a myriad of frenzied basketball fan with every other one wearing jerseys featuring the names of their favorite players. "There's a game tonight," Gabriel suddenly said, motioning his head to the sports venue to the left, "they won't try anything with so many civilians around."

Dante only nodded in response. _This kid's insane. Who is this paranoid?_ "See the ticket scalper on the corner," Gabriel didn't wait for a response, "He's one of 'em." He jerked Dante's arm harshly, pulling him to the right to cross the street.

They practically speed-walked another block and a half before sharply turning into what appeared to be a cheerfully lit coffeehouse. A woman in black greeted them at the door, "Hello, welcome to COSI, follow me this way." She seated them in ultra-modern, upholstered chairs near the back of the café, as per Gabriel's request.

Seconds later, an African-American woman greeted the boys and announced to them that she was their waitress.

"Pick your poison," Gabriel mumbled while keeping an eye on the door.

"A strawberry mint mocha frappuccino, with extra whipped cream, please," Dante said quickly, adding a grin at the end.

"You're weird," Gabriel replied with a smile.

"Fine," Dante feigned disappointment, "a strawberry shake."

"An earl gray tea, please."

The woman took their drink orders and walked away.

"Whoa… dude, they have pizza here? I am totally ordering this meat trio thing," Dante said from behind his menu.

Gabriel shrugged. For the first time since they met, Dante could see that the boy across from him beginning to become at ease. He pulled his hood off and rubbed his temples. Gabriel looked like he was about to be sick.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he looked up at Dante, "just a little headache."

The waitress reappeared with their drinks and Gabriel ordered for both of them, "He'll have the meat trio pizza and I'll have the soup of the day." With that, she was gone again.

Dante tugged at his hood wanting to pull it off. "I wouldn't if I were you. White hair isn't exactly a common thing around here. Give me your hand."

"What?"

"Look, I'm not gay or anything. Just give me your hand."

Dante hesitantly laid his hand on the table.

Gabriel pulled it closer and grabbed it tightly. He closed his eyes and began mumbling to himself. As far as Dante could tell, the boy was speaking in Latin.

He let go of Dante's hand and rubbed his temples again. "It's not my best work," he said with a pained expression on his face, "but, at least you'll less conspicuous. It only lasts a few hours in case you were wondering." He hand Dante his teaspoon.

Dante took it, pulled off his hood, and looked at his slightly distorted reflection. Nothing major changed. Gabriel managed to trade in Dante's platinum locks for a more "natural" pale blonde. Dante handed Gabriel his spoon back and looked at him as if to say, _I hope you have a damn good explanation for this_.

"Don't get me wrong, I could make it last longer, but blood seals are _soooo_ disgusting," Gabriel shuddered.

Gabriel straightened up and sipped his tea. The food was brought to the table. Dante bit into his gourmet pizza and Gabriel tasted his vegetable and lentil soup.

"I suppose you want to know about everything, Dante. Why you have been chosen and all that good stuff. I guess I should start at the beginning."

Gabriel sipped his tea again and continued, "In the '50s the CIA began a project called MK-ULTRA. It was a series of studies in mind control. They would inject unsuspecting subjects with psychotropic drugs. Some ended up with real tripy hallucinations, some went insane, and some died while others killed themselves due to the trips."

Gabriel went for his soup and continued, "By the '70s, one of the scientists on the project went into another direction. He proposed that it was possible to create super-soldiers with the drugs. He believed that his "soldiers" could have psychokinetic powers as well as be physically superior. They wouldn't need to eat or sleep and they would have rapid regenerative abilities."

"Needless to say, it didn't work."

"Correct. Another scientist followed in those footsteps in the '80s up until 1991 and dubbed this endeavor the CHIMERA project. This time he started from scratch when he found lesser demons, thinking they were a rare breed of animal. He created human embryos using male and female donors. He then injected the embryos with this 'animal' DNA. The embryos were implanted into surrogate mothers."

Gabriel pushed his unfinished soup aside and looked up at the door. There was no one, so he continued, "The surrogates died shortly after childbirth and very few infants survived. If they did and didn't look human enough, they were terminated. The human-looking babies were adopted out to families, but still remained as government property, meaning the children could be taken back at anytime."

The woman brought a refill on tea as Dante finished his shake. "We were brought up and trained as soldiers; Jason, Kayleigh and me. We trained and fought as a three man cell, based on our relativity. I guess you could say we were triplets; all conceived at the same time with the same human DNA, just born on different dates."

_That would explain why this Jason kid looked like a cross between Chimera and Gabriel._

"They gave us codenames based on the abilities we retained from different devils. Kayleigh received Chimera, because she really did embody what they wanted in these experiments. She was infused with at least two demons, the main part being a Shadow, which you already know about. Jason was called Wizard because of the Auromancer in him. He also had telepathy, telekinesis, and some remote viewing. Then there's me… the chameleon. I guess that I am from a genetically enhanced Frost."

"Auromancers aren't demons," Dante cut in.

"They are and they aren't. Auromancers were humans that dabbled into magic to the point where they became partially demonic; considered to be the lowest of the low, even worst than vampires."

"I noticed... that you talk about Jason in the past tense. What really happened to him?"

"He was killed in action," Gabriel simply put it; "He was only fifteen. Since he died, our handlers have been scrambling for a replacement. When they heard that there were hybrids born naturally, they jumped at the chance to find them. First there was another with white hair. I never saw him, but I'm guessing he was your brother."

_Vergil._

"Anyways, he didn't work out because I'm thinkin' he got away somehow. Then they found you. I heard that they tried to make contact in the past, but decided to bring you in when my brother died."

Gabriel glanced down at his watch, "We've got to get going." Gabriel placed a hundred dollar bill in the small leather folder that contained their bill of less than thirty dollars. He and Dante left the café.

They didn't get five steps before Gabriel practically ran to expel his soup and tea into some azalea bushes.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine... I just...B—" He was bent over the bushes again. When all was clear, Dante helped the boy to a patio chair under an awning.

"I'm gonna get you some water."

"Thanks." Gabriel's headache came back.

Dante returned with a plastic cup filled with water. Gabriel took a few sips and sat the cup down. Dante leaned against the wall next to Gabriel.

"I wasn't completely honest with you, Dante. There are a couple cells around, but I think most of them are dead. You see, what these people didn't count on was that playing God has its drawbacks. We are all starting to fall apart. Kayleigh is three quarters demon. She has her lucid moments, but she is prone to psychotic breaks. Me... Well, I'm a half like you, yet I don't stay healthy for long. Jason was considered a failure because he was less than a quarter demon, somewhere near a fifth. He couldn't heal like us, but he was a helluva fighter. _I_ don't see where he's a failure."

Gabriel chuckled a little before saying, "He was the coolest, goofy little kid, yet he was strong enough to tear something limb from limb and summon a demon without much thought. You kinda remind me of him." Gabriel smiled at the last part.

"I guess I was their greatest failure of all... bred to hunt and fight and I won't do it at all," Gabriel stood up, drank the rest of the water and trashed the cup.

Gabriel's back was to Dante when he saw a small, silver cross fall from Gabriel's sleeve and hang there. He could see that it connected to smooth, black beads.

Dante decided to ignore the fact that the black-haired half demon had a rosary in his possession, just as he ignored that he was named after an angel. He decided to keep the blaring irony to himself.

Gabriel headed back down the street and Dante followed. The short trip back was a quiet one. Neither spoke a word. The city was just as still. There were no more crazed fans on the sidewalks and few cars traversed to the slick streets.

Dante was still digesting that he was dropped in group of demons that were created in a Petri dish.

The two entered the underground garage and walked down the ramps to their car. Without warning, Dante drew his guns and held them out as he began to circumspect the area. "Something's here."

Two Hellenvies appeared from nowhere to attack the two teens.

Dante unleashed a torrent of bullets into his opponent, turning him into nothing more than hamburger meat. The Hellenvy was not standing for long, because Dante decapitated it with a spinning heel kick to the face. It exploded into a cloud of sand.

After he made quick work of the demon, he turned to see his counterpart being held in the air by his neck. Gabriel's legs were dangling helplessly as his skin began turning to a shade of blue. He gripped his captor at the wrist.

"Please, no," he whispered breathlessly. Gabriel didn't seem to be pleading with the demon. He seemed to be begging to himself. His aura began to grow as cold as the snow outside.

Gabriel's eye glowed blue as he thrust his legs upwards and wrapped it around the envy's arm. It let go of the boy's neck in surprise. A set of trench knives appeared in his hands. The six-inch long blades protruded from his closed fists, near his pinkies. The blade's hilt continued around Gabriel's fingers like a set of sharpened brass knuckles.

Dante's fingers tensed near the trigger, ready to squeeze off some shots, just in case. Gabriel hung there with his arms dangling. In one fluid motion, he pulled himself up and slashed the thing from stem to sternum, if it had a stem. He dropped to his feet into a crouched position and slashed it at its ankles before its torn torso hit the ground.

Dante watched in awe as the boy rapidly hacked and slashed the demon into smaller pieces. The boy rose to his feet, panting. His hands, blades, and the rosary wrapped around his wrist were dripping in black demonic blood. He stared down at the demon chunks as it transformed into dust and sand saying, "This is why I choose not to fight."

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_Eh... an extended, so-so chapter. Freaking long monologue, Gabe!_

**Gabriel: **_Hey! You write the script... I act it out. It's your own damn fault!_

**Eric: **_Did I just get PWND by my own OC::cries::_

_::sigh:: It finally snowed yesterday and guess what? It all melted by this morning! BTW: The MK-ULTRA thing is true... just wiki it if you don't believe me._

_Gotta go... Review!_


	5. Worthy

_Thank you all who have reviewed and added this little story (Awww. Does that mean you like me?). Sit back and enjoy and I'll be back soon. Lastly, I proofread, but still things creep up… let me know if you see any mistakes. Don't forget to review!_

**radioactive.raccoon** – _No, we don't… just wait and see._

**Lady Luce** – _I'm glad that you think so. That's why I don't mention OCs in the summary box… it scares people away. OCs need love too._

**GWolf** – _LOL… I know, but we need to have a pretentious character too_!

**lost son of sparda** – _That is true… I'd like to see you try, you'll probably blow mine out of the water._

**Satanic Park Of Madness** – _No, I have not completely killed "Thanks…" believe it or not, I wrote and rewrote the next chapter three times and I'm still not happy with it… It has gotten too complicated for my feeble little attention span. I'll work on that flashback idea with maybe more anime too._

**Silentdeath Bringer** – _Thank-you and I'd honestly like to more from "Ice Breaker"_

On with the show!

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Chapter Five: Worthy 

The rest was a blur. Dante could vaguely remember pulling Gabriel away from the demonic ashes and into the car. He recalled the ride back.

The slick city streets were lined in piles of snow that had been sullied with sand and car exhaust. The flurries had stopped falling, but the wipers continued to streak across the windshield.

_Squeak._

_Squeeeak._

Gabriel was curled up, unbelted in the car seat. The boy sat there shaking. He remained silent and immobile, staring blankly ahead at the snow-capped cityscape.

The smell of the black blood fumigated the car as it slowly dried on Gabriel's hands and rosary. His blades had long ago disappeared.

Dante would never forget the look in his now blue-green eyes. On the one hand, they portrayed utter fear. He was afraid of himself and of what he could do. On the other, Gabriel's eyes had a sheen that told of bloodlust. They seemed to plead for more carnage.

Most of all, Dante remembered how cold it was. Not Gabriel's stifling silence and not the tension that was brought with it. It was quite literally cold and Dante could _feel_ it emanating from the other half-devil.

Again, everything else smeared and bled together. They returned to the Navy Yard and some agents seized them. Gabriel was dragged away in one direction and he in the other. Now he was back in his gilded cage, lying across his bed.

Dante laid and wondered if Gabriel was still alive. After all, the guy had told him about many decades worth of government secrets a mere hours ago.

He wondered if they were interrogating Gabriel, right then and there. Dante had seen it in the movies before. A traitorous soldier would be questioned one moment and tortured to death the next.

A sea of thoughts and scenarios ran through Dante's head. He pictured them pumping Gabriel full of truth serums or maybe that toxin they used on him.

The notion of Gabriel in agony didn't bother him as much as the scene of him decimating that Hell Envy. It seemed that his lab-created talents were uncontrollable and threatened to destroy him.

Then there was Chi – Kayleigh. Had she come to yet?

He stared at the beige ceiling until his tired lids inched closed. Sleepy and rightfully so. It had been a tiring evening.

A soft knock at the door ended the doze and his ice-colored eyes shot open with a start. He shifted his eyes to the front door. The knock was rather low on the door giving Dante the impression that person on the other side was diminutive.

The console beeped and the lock clicked as the handle turned.

"Dante," a voice called softly. It was Kayleigh. Her voice was just as motherly and kind as he remembered in that subway station.

"Dante, you awake," she questioned again. Her voice carried no childish tones, rather more mature, more adult-like.

Kayleigh ventured farther into Dante's dimly lit room. As soon as she crossed the threshold into his bedroom, he finally spoke up, questioning, "Come to finish me off?" His low, sotto voice seemed embittered and contemplative at the same time. Was he still digesting that he was kidnapped and to be placed on a _team_?

Team. A team? What team? Was he really supposed to be working with a psychotic hybrid and a physically unstable half-demon that managed to _do_ what he did to that demon?

No... It was more likely that his thoughts turned to Vergil. Kayleigh admitted to combating him and copying his abilities. Gabriel also verified that someone had made contact with him.

_Vergil._ That name spoken in his mind made him fiddle with the amulet under his shirt. He pulled it out and traced his brother's name engraved on the back.

"No," Kayleigh broke the brief quiet, "I do tend to get carried away... For that, I am sorry." She drew closer to and sat on the bed next to him. He felt those same gentle fingers wind and caress his default white locks. It was oddly soothing, so comforting and he didn't try to make her stop.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you," she asked, once again trying to break the awkward silence.

Dante didn't answer; he only turned onto his side with his back facing her.

"Ten years," he finally said staring off into the direction of the bathroom, "It's been ten years since I last saw him and all this time I thought he was dead."

Those words dredged up the memories and made them fresh in his mind.

"_Vergil," the fair-haired boy screamed, running from the burning house. His clothes and skin was stained with soot and blood; His own and Eva's. He had tried to fight the devils off, but they proved to be too many and too strong. His recklessness ended up with him getting hurt and caused him to lose his mother._

_Vergil had run off on his own to fight the advancing ranks a while ago. He promised that he'd be back... So where was he?_

_Vergil gave Dante one job and that was to protect their mother at all cost and he had failed to do that. What good was he?_

_He remembered parrying with a demon until it got the upper hand. He was helpless when his final blow was pushed aside and the demon readied itself to run the boy through._

_Dante braced for impact but felt nothing. He looked up to see his mother bear the full force of the attack. The demon snatched its weapon away, causing her to fall backwards._

_Dante caught her and gently guided her to the floor. Rage and hate filled every fiber of his being as he gripped Rebellion. He swung his sword upwards, splintering the floor boards in the process. He hacked and slashed at the demon until it fell dead under his furious onslaught._

_His attention turned back to his fallen mother. "Mom? Mom!"_

_He kneeled beside her. "Dante," Eva brought a bloodied hand to his face, "find your brother and run."_

"_Mom..." was all he could muster. He was trying to figure out how to her out of their flame-engulfed home._

"_Look at me Dante. You both need to get out of here and run. More are coming." She could see the worry in his sapphire eyes. "Oh, honey," she appealed in comfort, "I'll be fine, just find Vergil." Maybe a part of him could tell that she was lying._

_He stood cautiously, wanting to stay with her. "Just go, sweetie."_

_He looked towards his exit and back to her. She was already gone and there was nothing more he could do for her. Maybe it was better to die this way rather than be consumed by the flames._

_So, he ran, hurdling over the fiery debris. He made it outside into the cool night air with Rebellion in hand._

"_Vergil," he screamed again. His voice was made hoarse with smoke._

"_Ver—" he bit off his shouts when he smelled fresh blood on the wind. _Oh, God,_ he thought. He rushed off hoping that his twin was still alive._

_He stopped dead in his tracks and let out a loud cry when he felt a sharp pain enter from his back and exit his chest. Dante dropped to his knees and held Rebellion with a white knuckle grasp, despite the debilitating pain. He keeled over when he felt a sizzling ache gouge deep into his abdomen._

_From what he could see and sense, there were no demons around and there were no wounds. So where was he picking up these sensations? _Vergil, _he realized._

_He dug his nails into the ground and hit his head against it, trying to find some way to think clearly through the hurt._

"_Just hang on V, I'm almost there," he said aloud._

_He could see the fuzzy images of trees and the full moon that seemed to hang low in the sky. The visions were getting darker and cloudier by the second; he knew that Vergil was barely hanging on._

_Within moments he was in the woods and closing in on his brother's position. He followed a blood trail until about a hundred yards from the fallen figure sprawled on the ground. _

_He could tell it was Vergil from the moon bathed, white hair. He lay there with Yamato in a firm grip, giving some real substance to that old saying, "pry it from my cold, dead fingers." Vergil was surrounded by the corpses of demons that he had cut down himself._

_More demons appeared and huddled around the boy's body. _

_Deep down, wanting the chance to mourn, to grieve the loss of his mother and now of his brother, Dante prepared to do battle once again. A strong feeling washed over him, telling him to stay away, at least for the time being, lest he be killed too._

_The demons picked up the child's lifeless body and disappeared into a portal._

_Alone. Dante was now truly alone. He had never known this emotion until today. He felt so worthless too... They gave up their lives to protect him, why couldn't he do the same? He felt so unworthy to be alive. _

Dante tucked the amulet back into his shirt and released a deep sigh.

"Ten years is a long time to lock away emotions," Kayleigh said.

"I don't have time for emotions," Dante retorted, "I live my life one fight at a time."

"Hmm. And Gabe could only wish to see life that way. He sees each day as one more moment to atone for his sins. One more day to pray," she mused about the irony to no one in particular.

"Sins," inquired Dante as he turned over again, this time facing Kayleigh. He tried not to seem too eager.

"Oh, yes. We all have them, but his consumes him. He believes that our very existence is an abomination. Being born was our sin. I'm sure he will tell you when he is ready and feels worthy of something better than utter damnation."

Dante understood what she meant all too well. He was bounced from foster homes and orphanages all of his life and each 'family' didn't hesitate to remind him that he was a freak of nature. The more religious ones deemed it necessary to tell him that he should be purged from the earth.

"How do you see it," he asked.

Kayleigh shrugged and said, "Just ignore it… push it aside, pretend that the elephant in the room doesn't exist… That's what Chimera affords me, a way to take it one step at a time."

He had never heard her refer to herself in the third person. It was strange to think that she felt herself to be a separate entity from Chimera.

She stood from the bed and asked, "Tell me, did he chant Latin while using his chameleon abilities?"

Dante thought about it. He remembered Gabriel did that when his hair changed colors.

"Yeah, those spells. What about it?"

"Those aren't spells. He doesn't need them... He was chanting some very old Roman Catholic prayers. He was praying for forgiveness. He does it every time he is forced to use his abilities."

She leaned in without opposition and kissed him on the forehead and said, "Good night, Dante. You'd better get some rest... we have training _really_ early in the morning."

With that she was out the door and he was alone again.

* * *

**Eric:** _Wow! That took a lot longer to write than I thought. I hope it's not too crappy._

**Dante: **_It's okay… they're nice folks and they cater to your enormous ego._

**Eric:** _Umm… Thanks?_

**Dante: **_Don't mention it._

**Eric: **_I can't think anymore! Too many fics haunt my dreams! I think if I think hard enough…_

**Gabriel: **_Did you hear that Verg?_

**Vergil: **_Yessir!__I sure did… It's the sound of air escaping Eric's head, isn't it?_

**Eric: **_First of all that hurts… and you are in the WRONG fic, freaking flashback character… and… ::_runs off crying

**Gabriel: **_Pfft… Pussy! That'll teach you for giving almost no chapter time._

**Dante: **_Now, look what you did! Eric'll never finish on time! Huh...ummm... review? Please?_


	6. Tony and Sanity

Thanks to all reviewers and those who have chosen to add this dinky little fic

So this is a short little diddy... hope you like it. Disclaimer? Sure... Caution, strange dream sequence ahead.

Thanks to all reviewers and those who have chosen to add this dinky little fic.

**Satanic Park Of Madness:** I don't think about too much, some my fics mirror one game while others reflect upon others... It's kinda hard to do considering that the games aren't exactly cohesive.

**Lady Luce:** Gabe and Dante do deserve a big hug after this is all over.

**Silentdeath** **Bringer**: Me too and Thank-you... here's another.

**GryronInferno46****: **Thank you for adding me and I'm glad that you like the plot device... by all means use it to your advantage.

**Shadow-of-a-Wolf****: **Admit it... Crazy chicks turn you on.

see ya later!

* * *

Chapter Six: Tony and Sanity

Kayleigh had left for the night and sleep now had a firm hold on Dante. So much so that he hadn't bothered to change or turn off his light. It was almost as if it had snuck up on him. The surveillance cameras recorded the teen sprawled across his bed with his fair lashes fluttering.

"I wonder what he's dreaming about," a security guard said to another.

"Shut the hell up," he answered, "and get back to work."

Sure enough Dante was entering his R.E.M. stages. He found himself laid out in a room totally covered in white. He was dressed as how he remembered, in a hoodie and jeans. _Did they dose me again,_ he thought to himself. Those thoughts were tossed out as soon as he rose to his feet. If he had been drugged and woken up, he'd be able to identify his surroundings, but the room he was currently in was limitless, as if it had stretched into oblivion.

SHINK! JINGLE! SHINNNNK! There was the sound of metal jingling and sliding across something. Dante sat up and turned to the direction of the sounds. He gazed into the mirror set before him... except there was no frame to this mirror. He watched as his reflection seemed to struggle with some heavy-duty-looking chains. The teen in the reflected had his head down as he tugged at his chains. The restraints were bolted to the floor and had massive padlocks in strategic places. The boy stretched, yanked, and writhed in place hoping to make some headway in his prison. The boy didn't seem to notice any presence around him. SHINK!

Dante then looked down to see that he wasn't being held in place. He was honestly confused by the whole scene. He cautiously reached toward his reflection, wanting the free him, but yanked his hand back at the last second; as if something inside forbade him to do it. He stood up and turned to leave until heard a low voice from behind. The voice was raspy from lack of use, "Where are you going?"

Dante slowly turned to see that his reflection was staring back at him with irises of crimson. "Please... let me out," the boy pleaded. Dante began moving backwards. "WAIT! DON'T LEAVE ME!" The boy lunged at Dante. The chains stopped him but only the tension kept him from landing on his face. "Dante, you haven't forgotten about me, have you?"

He was getting even more confused. The boy looked like him, but was no where near similar at the same time. "It's been a long time since you left me here... I was beginning to worry."

"Left you? Who are you?" Dante asked his question thinking that this being was a devil that had taken on this guise.

"You don't remember me?" The boy seemed genuinely hurt. "And after all those years I took care of you?! I was FUCKING there for you when you were abused by that prick! When you asked to make the 'bad things' go away, I did it for you. I kept you sane. I _kept _you alive when you could have died, you BASTARD! How _can_ you forget?" He rattled at his chains, violently.

Dante thought and long and hard about what the boy had said. And he was right. For many years, after he had lost his family, there had only been one constant in his life. "Tony?"

"Yes," the boy seemed relieved. He instantly calmed down at the mention of his name. Many have thought that Tony was just an imaginary friend, but it was a name that he had given his demonic side. Not that anyone had ever noticed, but it was Tony that took the punishment from Dante's abusive foster parents. After all, he had been the one to fight the demons until Dante felt ready. And it had been _he_ who was the key to Dante's power.

From an early age, Dante and his brother had embraced their abilities. As Dante had gotten older, he learned to hide it in order to fit in. As his talents started to grow, he feared that he'd unable to control them and locked them away. Then there was Tony, the physical manifestation of his inner-demon, bound in the deepest recess of Dante's mind.

Still, he was weirded out by this whole thing. That half of his personality was literally staring him down. There across from him, the boy wrapped in super-study chains; it had been this way for a good reason. "I can't release you," was all Dante could utter.

"And why the hell not," the boy violently shouted.

"I let you out once before... only for a little bit... and— and I killed a man. I can't let that happen again." Dante turned to leave again.

"You can't survive without me, Dante," Tony yelled as he writhed in his chains, "We are one in the same... I'll find a way out sooner or later." His voice became sotto at the latter part.

Dante turned to a flash of bright lights. His vision cleared to see that he was back in his room with his handler, Mr. Brown just inside his view, slightly blocking the bright lights. "Wha—"

"Get up, Dante," the African-American man said, "Your training has just begun."

* * *

**Eric:** Although this chapter was short (really, really short), I hope that it explains a lot of things.

**Tony:** Are you calling me psychotic?!

**Eric:** Well... umm...

**Tony:** No one calls me crazy and lives to tell about it!

(begins wailing on Eric)

**Dante:** (walks around the one-sided fight) Sooo... please feel free to review... Tony please don't kill him, then he'll never finish the story.

**Tony:** Fine. I was just leaving! (delivers final kick)

**Gabriel:** (comes out of nowhere and body slams Eric) And this is for leaving me out... once again!

**Eric:** ... (twitches) review?


	7. Fight Club

Thanks to all readers, reviewers and people have added this story. Your support means a lot!

**Satanic Park of Madness:** LOL... Nope, no Pyramid Head, but yes in the last chapter, Tony was the "evil" side.

**Silentdeath Bringer:** You are kinda close... Enzo is the name of the fat guy in the manga

**Shadow-of-a-wolf:** You won't have to much longer.

_Alright now! On with the show! _

* * *

Chapter Seven: Fight Club

Brown had tossed Dante some grey workout sweats and instructed the half-devil to meet him in the corridor. He obeyed and within minutes, the two were walking down the sterile hallways with the handler leading the way. The whole trip down the empty halls lasted all of ten minutes, but the silence made it seem like an eternity.

The man came to a stop and Dante did the same. He stood still for a moment. It may have been incredibly early in the morning, but even the still sleepy Dante could tell that something was off.

"Dante?"

"Yeah," the teen yawned out.

"Why'd you run off? What happened to you keeping in touch?" Dante could tell that the man was just as fatigued as he. His voice took on a tired tone and he detected something else there, was it maybe… _concern?_ He wasn't quite sure if he _could_ answer the man's questions. Was Brown still to be trusted? After all, the man was agent, one of them… the very same as the people that kept Gabriel and his sister under lock and key since the day they were born.

"I had no idea that I was in prison," the words flowed out automatically cocky in nature.

Brown faced the arrogant teen, "Look, kid. I know that you have spent most of your life on the streets and it's a damn shame, son. It really is, but I have taken it upon myself to act as your guardian...to keep an eye on you."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"It's not just that. It has become _my_ job to keep you out of trouble. I will not attempt to run your life, but I will give you the opportunities to make the right decisions for yourself. With those kids you met the other day, I am sure that you realized by now that when it comes to them, there is more than meets the eye. And I don't wholly mean their abilities. You ask yourself 'Can I trust 'ol Leo,' but you should also ask yourself if you can trust _them_."

Dante stood silent, pondering the words of Mr. Brown. The old man was proving to be very profound, but he was damned if the man was going to have the last word. He was going to put Brown to the test. As the handler began to move down the hall again, Dante said, "Last night, you said that you have a son. What's his name?"

Brown reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of a teenager that held a strong resemblance to him. The boy in the picture had a lighter complexion and had hair, but other than that he was his father's son. "His name is Daniel," the handler answered, "He is turning sixteen next week."

Dante held for effect. Nothing. He was surprised that the man placed his picture and wallet back into his pocket and said nothing else. Dante had expected the man to play mind games with him as a tactic to delve into his tragic past. It had been the trick of choice by many a psychologist that took it upon themselves to examine the boy once he was in the foster system. But Brown said nothing and continued down the hall. _That's it_, Dante asked internally.

As if reading the teen's mind, the man answered, "I won't prod into your past. Everyone has skeletons and I just won't go there. But I am here to talk, when you are ready." Dante gave a small smile at the man's very astute response. He was sure if his handler had said something else, they would have to line up a brand new one for him.

After some time, Brown had brought Dante down a flight of stairs and before a set of blue, heavy steel double doors. The handler opened the door for his charge to reveal a large gym of sorts. The floors were covered in blue and red gym mats. Lined on the far walls to the left and right were workout equipment. The very same found at the local gym. Closer to the door were punching bags and speed bags. Centering the floor was a large canvas boxing ring. Sparring in that ring, to Dante's surprise, were Kayleigh and Gabriel.

Kayleigh produced fast and powerful combinations to which Gabriel blocked or evaded each time. Kayleigh moved so quickly that even Dante was having trouble tracking her across the ring. Gabriel was even cause of some excitement; doing evasive moves as if he was in his opponent's head. "C'mon Gabe," Kayleigh grunted loudly, "All you do is block and run. Fuck defense, try some offence asshole!" Her profanities were strange considering that the words were said in a child-like voice.

"Why... can't... you," her words were punctuated by the blows she threw, "be... more... like..." She turned her head, spotted the silver haired teen standing at the door and exclaimed, "Hey! Dante!" At the same time Gabriel dropped his guard and looked. This was rewarded with a straight punch to the face by his sister. His head bucked back with a loud snap and he dropped to the mat in heap. Kayleigh slid under the ropes and ran towards the half-devil for a hug. Dante narrowly ducked getting glomped. "Dante," her enthusiasm was through the roof, "what brings you here at this ungodly hour?"

"Training, I guess."

Kayleigh stood staring at Dante with a confused look her face. It melted away and formed into a smile as she laughed.

"What?"

"Loosen up, Dante. You are waaay too serious right now." The half-devil cracked a grin and turned his attention to Gabriel's fallen form, which was still lying in the ring.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Of course! He's part demon. He'll be right as rain in no time," she said with a confident smile.

"Really?" Dante narrowed his eyes at her, "Then why isn't he moving?"

"Huh," she thought aloud, "maybe I hit him harder than I thought." Gabriel stood slowly with a dazed expression on his face. He took a few steps and almost fell off balance. At this time, Brown thought that it was better that he'd intervene. Within moments Dante's handler was in the ring, helping Gabriel to sit and cleaning up his bloody nose. They boy held his face into the towel given to him by Brown, who had found hanging on a post.

Brown made his way back to the two kids standing by the door. "He'll be fine," he announced in a low voice, "I got to meet with the other handlers for a moment, so behave." His brown eyes shifted to Dante when he said the latter. The man left the gym leaving the three with an agent charged with keeping an eye on them when the handlers are absent.

Dante walked closer to the ring. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah," Gabriel answered as he shot a glare to Kayleigh as if to say, 'you bitch'.

"I love you too, big brother," she remarked innocently.

Gabriel wiped up the rest of the blood on his face and asked, "You wanna spar, Dante?" Sure he did. Sparring was always fun as hell! But Dante thoughts shot to Gabriel's well-being, as strange as that was. Dante normally would care less about others, but there was something gnawing at him, telling him that there was something not quite right about the boy in front of him. He didn't show any signs of what he went through yesterday. All a little too chipper for Dante's taste.

"Sure," came out more flatly than Dante would have liked. He climbed up into the ring near a turnbuckle. Gabriel took off his shoes and Dante followed suit, cautious of what the chameleon had up his sleeve. "What kind of style do you prefer," Gabriel asked.

Dante raised an eyebrow followed by a, "Huh?"

"Your fighting style. Hand to hand combat is an essential tool here, because you never know if you'll be put into a situation where you can't use your weapons." Dante was no fool. This was something Sparda taught him as a small child.

Gabriel continued, "As you saw earlier Kayliegh's moves are influenced by Muay Thai kickboxing and Hapkido. I can tell you that I mainly use Capoeira." Dante slightly parted his lips to respond, but closed his mouth quickly. If he wanted to, he could let his opponent know that he was classically trained in fencing and at least three different styles of Shaolin Kung Fu, all courtesy of Sparda. His crowning achievement was mastering Eskrima. Also known as Kali, the style that Dante learned was basically 'balls-out' fighting either hand to hand, or with knives or sticks. This was the first style of martial art that he actually sought out an instructor on his own. He stowed away on a fishing boat headed to some Pacific island and found an old man that agreed to train Dante, on the condition that he worked for his lessons.

It was four years of living hell. Practices lasted for about eight hours a day with one hour set aside to feast on a paltry meal of a piece of bread, a boiled egg, and water. Despite being half-demon, Dante carried bruises for days from being beaten with rattan sticks. Even the lack of sleep was beginning to hinder his abilities. The one thing that he remembered most from training on the Godforsaken island was what the instructor said before competition or the old man's sick idea of a spar. He always said while patting the white haired boy on the back, "Make your peace with your god and try not to die."

The old man was a harsh prick, but the result from the deadly training was that Dante became far more effective against the demons. Alas, Dante made no mention of this to Gabriel. "I do whatever feels right," Dante replied.

"Okay," Gabriel said, "Come at me!" Gabriel stayed at his normal height, with his arms at chest level. He began rocking back and forth, alternating on each foot. Deciding not to keep Gabriel waiting, Dante bounded over to the other teen, keeping off his heels. Gabriel automatically went into an L-kick. It was almost like a one-handed hand stand with his legs kicking up into the shape of an 'L'. From there, he swung his feet down and under Dante, threatening to sweep the platinum haired devil off of his feet. Dante back flipped away to avoid it. "So that's how you want to play it, Gabriel?"

Dante curled his body down to dress down on his target. He then thrust his open palms at Gabriel shins as he spun upside down. Dante heard a satisfying crack as his strike came into contact with Gabriel's bones. He let a sadistic grin play at his lips as Gabriel lay on the floor painfully clutching his broken leg. In that moment, Gabriel's ever-present all-knowing expression was gone and replaced with emerald eyes welling with tears. They boy continued to howl in pain.

"How 'bout them apples," Dante sneered as he danced his feet around the collapsed body. Gabriel allowed himself to heal before standing again to face the very arrogant Dante. Surely by now, Gabriel believed that this guy needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Gabriel began his ginga or rocking motion again. Dante stepped into a whipping kick and the raven haired boy managed to dodge with a closed cartwheel. Gabriel moved again causing Dante to go off balance with the momentum from his own kick. Gabriel maneuvered his lithe body up, balancing on his hands. His right foot went up into Dante's crotch, causing the devil with the snowy hair to knock his knees together. Before Dante could reflexively crumple to the floor, Gabriel sent his left leg to sweep under Dante again. Dante's legs went up and his head went back. Gabriel's right leg went up and he performed a heel smash to Dante's face. The canvas quaked as Dante's whole weight was sent bearing down, hard.

Gabriel went back into ginga again, giving Dante room to get up. Except he didn't. Dante didn't move a muscle. He was so still that he didn't seem to breathe at all. Gabriel watched the blood flow from Dante's busted nose before rushing to help his sparring partner. "Dante?" He bent over to give his opponent a firm shake on his shoulder. "Dante?" This time he knelt down to feel for a pulse. There was one; a very strong one. He learned in to listen for breathing.

Suddenly, Dante's crystalline eyes snapped open and he gripped Gabriel's throat with one hand. The teen with ebony hair instinctively tried to pull away, but he was going nowhere. The agent that had been quiet this entire time, leapt into action as he tried to pry Dante's fingers off of Gabriel's neck. The fingers only dug in harder. The agent was introduced to Dante's fist. He collapsed in a heap at the foot of the ropes.

Dante had a strong grasp on his neck which was made even stronger when he added a second hand. Gabriel's eyes began to grow wide as saucers as he began gasping for air. "D...ante... Puh... Please... s-s-stop!" He was trying striking Dante at the forearms and kicking off, anything to loosen his grip. Gabriel watched as a deep crimson slowly filled Dante's irises.

Gabriel tried once more and it was now or never, lest he would be strangled to death. With Dante still laying on his back and Gabriel an arm's length away in a straddling position, the raven haired boy brought his knees up, separating Dante's chest, from his own. He pushed off as he arched his back. His legs whipped up knocking his neck out of Dante's choking grasp. Gabriel tumbled backwards, landing a few feet away sucking in air, chest heaving. Red hand prints spread deep into his skin. "What the hell," Gabriel yelled hoarsely. Dante only lay there. Gabriel kept to his corner, swearing that he'd never go over there.

A few moments later, Dante sat up with a disoriented expression on his face. He brought a hand to his chest, not understanding why it was hurting. He looked up to see the fear in Gabriel's green eyes. He turned his head to see the unconscious agent to his left.

"Gabe, what happened?"

"What happened?! What the hell was that?" Gabriel's neck was still burning and he was still breathless. A migraine was pounding at Dante's head. He only remembered blacking out and then waking up to Gabriel keeping his distance. His eyes, which reverted to its frosty hue, saw the bright red hand prints on the boy's neck. _Did I—?_

At this point, Dante wasn't sure of anything anymore. He got up and tried to move closer to Gabriel. He only shrank back like a wounded animal. It was the same look that kid had when Tony killed—. No. He refused to think about that now. "Look, man... I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry." There was true remorse in his eyes. Anger clouded Gabriel's eyes as the room became colder. "I know that an apology doesn't fix everything," Dante's breath came out in little puffs of smoke, "I hope that you could eventually forgive me."

"I know," Kayleigh exclaimed with child-like wonder, "Why don't we get cleaned up and meet back here in a little bit and finish Dante's training." She had a broad smile plastered on her face. There had been so much going on that the boys had almost forgotten that she was in the room. She definitely was trying to ease the tension that permeated the room. "Now, Gabe," she continued, "you need to take a few deep breaths so that we all don't end up as icicles."

Kayleigh opened the heavy door, "Come on boys! Let's go, let's go!"

"Heh," Gabriel let out as a low chuckle. It brought a warm smile back to his face. "Okay Kayleigh... I'm a-coming," he jokingly retorted. He glanced back at the unconscious agent, "But we have to take Thompson to the infirmary, first." In no time at all, Gabriel dragged Thompson out of the ring and had him on his back in a fireman's carry. He was halfway towards the door before he glanced over the body on his back, "You coming, Dante?" He was a little taken aback to hear the same cheeriness in his voice. Dante hustled out of the ring and held the door open for his counterparts.

* * *

**Eric**: _See... No witty banter here. It's your night off!_

(Fist comes flying out of nowhere) **MOW!**

**Gabriel**: _That's for breaking my nose, you son-of-a-bitch!_

**Dante**: _You complain way too much! First you don't get enough chapter time and now you are upset if conditions aren't exactly favorable! You are made of fail!_

**Gabriel**: _Made of fail? At least my own weapon doesn't stab me!_

(**Dante** and **Gabriel** continue arguing/**Eric **screaming in pain in the background)

**Kayleigh**: _Review and we'll see you Chapter 8: Child's play _


	8. Child's Play

_Thank you all for stopping by and taking the time out of your busy schedules to a peek._

**GWolf:** I was honestly a little skittish about it at first, but that you are enjoying that side of our favorite half-devil.

**Silentdeath Bringer:** I am glad that you like what's going on.

**T-Jinzo:** Honest! There's nothing up my sleeve... I am horrible at magic tricks. Yes... did I mention that I'm an action junkie?

**Satanic Park Of Madness:** Thank you for enlisting the help of Master Chief and Auron for me.

**Shadow-of-a-Wolf:** Lies and Hype!

_Please review. They REALLY make my day and help me to figure out what direction I need to take my stories. Enjoy! _

* * *

Chapter Eight: Child's Play

_Screams erupted through the tiny house. They came from the young girl who made the mistake of stepping into that hellish room at that exact moment. Her innocent hazel eyes scanned the room from one bloody wall to the other. Her frightened gaze settled on one of the darker corners of the room. From there, she spotted the platinum haired boy that her foster parent known as Uncle Joe had taken in, covered in blood. What was his name again? Dante, wasn't it?_

_The boy was about five years younger than her and she had deduced that Uncle Joe had brought the kid into his home for another check. That's was what being a foster parent meant to that disgusting old man, another paycheck and more government money to squander. Old Joe was outwardly a model citizen, but known only to his foster children, he was a hardcore sadist. His idea of discipline included beating the children mercilessly and locking them up in a closet for days on end. Dante hadn't been there two weeks before Uncle Joe decided to beat the boy within an inch of his life._

_The girl was force to care for him. She was sure that he would soon die from his injuries. The girl was amazed to learn that he had made a full recovery by the next day. And today, he had taken Dante to the back room for more 'discipline'. She snapped back to reality, seeing that Dante was holding Joe's lifeless body in his arms. The man was so horribly disfigured that the girl hardly recognized him. Sure he had been a bastard, but did he deserve this? She watched as crimson pooled at the boy's feet, staining the hardwood floors and his skin. The vision made her want to vomit._

_She began shaking uncontrollably when he turned his head to look at her through a set of vacant, maroon eyes. He dropped Joe's body to the floor with a stomach churning thud and made a slow approach towards her. She wanted to run. Dear God, she wanted to get out of there. Her legs remained rooted in place. There was a disconnect. All calls to legs can not be completed as dialed. Please try again later. She had never been so scared in her life._

_Blood dripped off of his arms, creating a trail as he made his way across the room. The boy grinned madly with murderous intent glossing over his eyes. He made a few more steps before she heard two loud and quick pops, like a firecracker. Two bullets bore into the back of Dante's skull just before he collapsed to the floor._

_So, old Joe had a little life left in him yet. The girl watched as the old man shot the boy with his dying breath. The boy on the other hand, looked up from where he lay, his eyes returning to its original clear-blue color. His apologetic eyes met hers. Without any words, he spoke volumes. He glazed at her a little longer before finally closing his sad, tired eyes. "Kara," he quietly whispered._

Dante's breathing hitched as he abruptly awoke. He jumped up from the couch in his room where had briefly closed his eyes for a nap. He glanced at the cell phone on the end table. It was nearly six in the morning and he was running late! He had already showered and redressed in normal street clothes as Kayleigh had prescribed.

Mr. Brown entered the room clutching a small stack of manila folders to his chest and closed the door behind him. "I heard what happened to Thompson."

Dante had a sullen look on his face. Sorrow for what Kara had to see and sorrow for he had done to Gabriel and the agent. "How is he," Dante asked in a low voice.

"He'll live," he gave a short answer.

"How are the other two," Dante referred to the demonic hybrids.

"They just outside, waiting on you." Dante made a move for the door and Brow grasped his should, stopping him. "I need to know if you can control yourself," Brown minced no more words, "Can you keep yourself in check?" Dante often wondered that himself. No one else knew about his other personality and wanted to keep it that way.

A smug grin grew across Dante's face as he replied, "No worries." It assuaged Brown's worries for the moment, but he wasn't completely convinced. Brown disengaged the locks and Dante left. Brown pulled out a photo of a crime scene from years ago out of his dossier. It featured the gruesomely mutilated body of a Joseph Kaufman. He could scarcely believe that his charge was able to do that with his bare hands. "For your sake kid," he said aloud, "I hope you can."

Dante met the other two outside in the parking lot. The three met up and followed yet another agent to a black SUV. They all got in and headed towards I-395, to the Pentagon City area of Arlington. For the most part, the ride from the capital was quiet, save for Kayleigh giving directions to the agent that chauffeured them across town.

Some ten minutes later the Government gas-guzzler pulled up to a public park. Kayleigh directed the agent to park closer to the swing sets. As soon as the car was thrown into park, Kayleigh grabbed three black knapsacks that were tucked under the car seats and made a break for the playground. She began gleefully climbing up the jungle gym.

"So, we came to baby sit her as she plays on the damn monkey bars," Dante questioned clearly annoyed.

"Dante, its more than just playing," Gabriel began, "Haven't you ever realized that the games you played as a child helped to shape you as a demon slayer?"

Dante looked perplexed, Gabriel goaded, "Come on and you'll see." He exited the truck and Dante followed. The agent, directly pulled off, probably headed back to headquarters.

"Where's he going," Dante questioned, slightly concerned that there was no one there just in case either of his companions go off the deep end again.

"Dante my man," Gabriel casually replied, "You worry way too much. You think that the U.S. Government would just leave us to our own devices? They have ways of keeping tabs on us. You see that woman walking with the stroller?"

Dante spotted said woman in under-armor spandex and Gabriel continued, "She's an agent who is watching us and there are several others in the area." Dante thought about it and then decided that he would say with an incredulous glare, "How do I know you are not just being paranoid?"

Gabriel let out a chuckle and said, "Take a look at her. The baby she's carting around isn't even real. It has been quiet as a church mouse and she has yet to make an attempt at picking it up."

"So? Babies sometimes _are_ quiet."

"Don't you get it, Dante? That baby is way too quiet. Most mothers don't go through a moment where they're not making some kind of contact with an infant. Don't you think it's a bit strange to have a baby out in the cold like this or as early in the day as now? Hell, the sun isn't even up yet! Also you need to look closer at the woman, herself. Look at her figure. There's no way a woman can keep that figure after a baby that young!"

Dante studied the features that Gabriel had pointed out. The woman was curvy with firm buttocks, a runner's body. Surely he would have loved to get to know her under different circumstances. "Whatever, dude" Dante shrugged off the swirling thoughts, "why'd you drag me out here at the ass-crack of dawn anyways?"

"For the fresh air," he joked as began to walk to the area of the playground where Kayleigh was playing. Dante later joined the two by the sliding board.

"Oh," Kayleigh gasped enthusiastically, "let's play tag!" Her eyes were wide as dinner plates.

"That sounds like a great idea," Gabriel chuckled lightly.

_Tag,_ Dante thought, w_hat the hell's that going to accomplish?_

"We haven't played since, Jason –" Kayleigh trailed off.

"I know what you mean," Gabriel rubbed her back in consolation, even when it seemed that he needed it more. He forced a smile for her and said, "Let's dedicate this game to him." He grabbed the knapsacks from the top of the one of the playground features and said, "The name of the game is tag and the rules are simple. You have three days to find your target. In your supply bag, you get five protein bars... use them wisely, three bottles of water, a watch synchronized to everyone else's time, a photo of your target and last but not least..." Gabriel reached into a random bag and produced a full metal, glock with an orange painted tip and tossed it to Dante. It was certainly weighted like a real gun.

"We each have a paintball pistol, each with different color markers," Gabriel continued. The clips hold only fifteen rounds and you get enough to reload twice, totaling at forty-five paintball rounds. They clock in at five hundred feet per second, almost enough force to _feel_ like a real gunshot and seriously hurt someone. Needless to say, hitting a civilian will disqualify you. You must evade your tail and take out your target for a win. Everyone gets a two hour head start. To get to your target, anything goes! The entire Metro area is fair play. Everyone get it? Any questions?"

Neither, Kayleigh nor Dante said a word. "Good," Gabriel said as he tossed them their packs and slung his own over his shoulder, "See you seventy-two hours." Everyone walked into their own directions and into what was sure to be a game of tag they'd never forget.

**

* * *

**

**Eric:** This is a lot short than I normally write, but I thought it was prudent to end it here. (spots **Gabriel**, shields himself) Ngah!

**Gabriel**:What? I came to wish you well.

**Eric**: Why? (suspiciously)

**Gabriel**: For AUSA.

**Eric**: Anime USA's only a con, I'm pretty sure that these fine people have been to one before.

**Gabriel**: Yes, but how many of them have been there with me? ... Cosplaying as Dante! (quick changes into cosplay)

**Eric**: Huh? Whaaa?!

**Gabriel**: Eric, this looks like the beginning, of a beautiful friendship. (hugs **Eric** close)

**Eric**: (looks frightened out of his mind, mouths to readers) Please... Help!

**Dante**: Only your reviews can save him now!


	9. Urban Survivor

_Wow 40 reviews! I thought I'd never get this far! Thank you all for stopping by and taking the time to read, add, and even review. You are greatly appreciated!_

**Lost son of sparda:** I am glad that you like what's going on so far.

**GryronInferno64:** Thank you so much Joe! I have a lot of fun reading your stuff. You two really crack me up! I wish I could write comedy as well as you two do.

**Satanic Park Of Madness:** Yes, I know of Batista, although I can't say that I am a fan. I used to love WWE back in the day. Yep... the RE people mix things up, but I honestly don't think that they'll work here. Thanks for the plug for my other stories! :P I see what you mean about anime and manga, but that's why I go to cons to hang out with people who share likeminded interests.

**Phant0m: **Why thank you. I'm crazy so I am always going to have random ideas. Where do you get yours? Your stories are awesome!

**Shadow-of-a-Wolf:** Thank you much! Although, I know for a fact that you play it at Cons.

_**Disclaimer:**__ There are a lot of things that happen in this chapter (and in the upcoming ones) that I suggest you NOT do in real life. It WILL land you in prison. So there, I said it... I don't condone this behavior and if you get caught doing this... God help you. Anyways, on with the show! Enjoy! _

* * *

Chapter Nine: Urban Survivor

Gabriel's words echoed in Dante's head. The name of the game was survival... and by any means necessary. The shear scale of the game is what got Dante's attention. "The entire Metropolitan area," as Gabriel had put it. That simple phrase encompassed over a fifty-mile radius, which includes parts of southern Maryland, northern Virginia and the District of Columbia. Dante took a deep breath. The cold air began making ice-crystals in his lungs. It had actually been so cold outside that his legs began to get stiff the moment he stopped moving. He had to keep running, not just to stay warm, but to keep his head start. There would be no telling what would happen if one of them had ever caught up with him. It had only been three hours since the game started, but he was already tired; drained mentally and physically.

The platinum haired teen jogged over to the nearest metro train station. This was the moment that he was thankful for keeping his ass planted on those cold floors playing the guitar. Had it not been for the money it promised—

He reached into his pants pocket and produced a five dollar bill and inserted it in to a fare card machine. The machine spat out his paper fare card and continued past to the turnstiles. He jogged up the stairs to the elevated train and entered a car. He plopped down in one of the vinyl-like seats.

The first thing he realized was that the train car was warm. The warmest he had been in hours. Every now and then the train would dip into underground tunnels and back up into the daylight. He would gaze out of the large plexi-glass and stare out at the passing cityscape. There were points in time where he would see nothing but the rolling hills and bare trees as he exited the urban centers. The snow that had covered the land the other night was non-existent. The warmth in combination of the serene scenery of the elevated and ground-leveled tracks lulled him asleep. It had been a long time since he was able to close his eyes without being on edge. Strange... and right about now, he was supposed to be running for his life.

"This is... Vienna, the last stop on the Orange line. Be sure to collect all of your belongings and thank you for riding Metro. Doors are opening on the right," the train operator said over the speakers. Dante jolted awake just as the train eased to a stop. The doors slid open and a recorded message about making room for more patrons came over the speakers.

He wiped some drool off the corner of his lips with the back of his sleeve and peeled himself away from his comfortable perch. He stepped off the train and walked to an already waiting bus that was to make its way near his destination. Some forty minutes and two bus transfers later, a bus let him off in the middle of the business district.

From there, he made his quarter of a mile trek to the local mall. Tyson's Corner... it was one of the larger malls in the area, with a localized population big enough to unsure that the young slayer blended in. That was Dante's strategy... to hide in plain sight, at least until he could hunt them down. That is if there was enough people hang out at the mall at nine o'clock in the morning.

But how was he going to find them in the first place? He immediately thought of the dossier. If he wanted to find them first, he'd have to peek at it eventually. Even so, he continued on to the mall, which was now only two blocks away. He elected to enter through one of the mall's main entrances rather than through the one of the more upscale department stores that anchored the shopping center. The main reason: his age.

Normally, when shopping, a patron's age wouldn't be a main factor. But when someone as young as he made an appearance at any store in the middle of the day, there was the question of whether or not he was skipping school. Then there would be a whole mess of calling a truancy officer to the situation. It was a can of worms that Dante wished not to open. It had happened before, back when he was in the foster system and Dante knew better than anyone that department stores tended to track the younger and minority customers via security cameras.

This was one of those situations where having white hair could play either way. One way, he could be mistaken for an old man trying to get in his morning exercises and another that with his hair coupled with his modern clothes, would have stuck out like a sore thumb. Either way he decided not to risk it. _Who knows_, he figured, _they__ could be watching the cameras too._

Dante went past the food court area and straight to a particularly busy coffee shop that resided in between a Disney store and the edge of a Gamestop. Dante went directly to a table situated as far away from the front door that he could get. He settled himself into a wooden chair and pulled out the yellow envelope that was tucked into his knapsack. The envelope itself, housed a manila folder teeming with information on his target. Dante leafed through the folder to find pictures of Gabriel and detailed information on him including his weapons of choice, his powers and even his likes and dislikes.

"So that's how he does it," Dante said to himself, "He freezes the moisture in the air, causing a drop in the temperature creating ice crystals and even snow." He then came to another line and read it to himself, "Glamoring abilities include complete mimicry of those he comes into contact with." He shuddered to think what that implied. Looking for Gabriel was worse than finding a needle in a haystack. Gabriel could be anyone!

Dante skipped down a few lines and set his on Gabriel's 'likes'. 'Enjoys J-Rock,' was what Dante managed to find in between a few large paragraphs. It was that seemingly insignificant tidbit that gave Dante his first idea on how to find Gabriel. Now that he had an idea of where Gabriel would be spending his time ducking the hunt, Dante decided that it was time that he parted with his current wares and got some new threads.

He didn't have much money on him; barely enough to keep him fed and train fare for the next sixty-nine hours. Shoplifting was his only other logical choice. He made the prudent decision not to lift from this mall in particular. Dante knew that while the option being completely within the realm of possibilities, security was a lot harder to contend with than in other places. There were so many things to keep in mind when lifting from a mall in a wealthy neighborhood.

There was A.) Store security – yes stores _inside_ of malls had their own security. With cameras tapped right into corporate headquarters, the 'big wigs' could keep an eye on those who dared to lay their sticky fingers on their merchandise. B.) Mall security – Rent-a-cops don't know when to stop. The moment a thief stepped out of the store and into the causeways, they were in mall territory. Under the mall jurisdiction, the rent-a-cops had carte blanche to tear the crook a new asshole... not to mention that the mall had their own very well-hidden cameras. C.) Running – Dante was simply too exhausted to even think of running. Then there was D.) the Real cops – After the security beat the unlucky thief within an inch of his life, he would be carted off to jail. From there, Dante knew that it would only get worse. Not only did Uncle Sam have surveillance every step of the way and that would only draw either Gabriel or Kayleigh, whichever of them that had his dossier. The scenario of stealing from this mall only brought more headaches. It was entirely too troublesome for an outfit. Dante needed to find a 'stand alone' store with very poor security... and fast.

Some thirty minutes later Dante found himself standing before a Wal-Mart in a shadier part of town, about ten miles down the road. According to Dante's logic, doing this in a crime-ridden area of a city will ensure that he could make a clean getaway. After all, the cops have more pressing matters to worry about than a pair of fifteen dollar jeans. Dante entered the store where an elderly man using a walker for support, greeted him by plastering a bright, yellow smiley face sticker on his chest. He smiled wide for Dante, revealing that all of his teeth could be counted on one hand. Dante looked from the annoying sticker to the old man. An uneasy grin twitched at his lips. What could he do, but to smile and walk away? Even the teen knew to respect his elders.

Dante made the first left turn, past the returns and lay-away desk to the restroom. He had to get his thoughts together, but most of all, he had to pee. After a blissful evacuation of his bladder, he washed his hands. As he looked up as the fingerprint-covered mirror, his gaze stuck at his reflection. For the first time in a while, it didn't dredge up memories of his 'late' twin. His attention was brought to his snowy white locks. He pushed his hood off and raked a hand through his hair. It had only been two days after the haircut and it had already begun to grow back. Dante wasn't all that concerned with the length at the moment, but the color. That is what it boiled down to. All of his life, he had taken the good and the bad that came with it. He simply loved the attention it brought him; it meant that he stood out in a crowd and it was the best thing for an extrovert like him.

But that was his downfall. His hair made him stand out _too_ much. If he wanted to _stay_ hidden he had to do something drastic. Hats were easy, but what if he got hot or if it came off at in opportune moments? Then there was the hunter. Honestly, if Dante were after someone in his same situation, every person with a hat would be suspect. He took a deep breath and came to a decision.

He exited the restroom with his hood back on and continued past the shopping carts. He went to the 'beauty and health' aisles, where he grabbed the travel sizes of the basic toiletries. He rounded the corner to the next aisle where he stopped dead in his tracks. The shelves that surrounded him teemed with hair care supplies. Dante neared the hair dye section, overwhelmed by the shear amount of selections. Permanent... semi-permanent... temporary... blonde... strawberry blonde, it went on and on. Dante had lived his entire life with his coif of platinum. All of a sudden, he was going to change it, all in the name of survival. The transformation that he was to undergo was more than enough. The teen blindly plucked a box of temporary dye from the shelf and pressed on.

Dante entered the clothing department, where he picked up some inconspicuous street wear. He had gathered some jeans, a long sleeved black shirt, featuring a name of a rock band, along with black and white sneakers and a black winter coat and knit hat to finish off his look. Not the most stylish choice in clothes, but he didn't have Gabriel's glamoring abilities and he had to change his appearance in some way.

Dante kept an eye out, counting the black spheres on the ceiling and walls that housed surveillance cameras. When he had an idea of how many surround the dressing rooms, Dante went to try on his new look. He tucked the toiletries and hair dye under the clothes and made his way into the fitting room. He then locked the door behind him and laid the clothes on the bench.

Dante checked the items for security tags. There were none. He tore off the inventory tags and slipped into the clothes. He then tore the UPC barcodes off of the assorted toiletries and dye, stuffing his black knapsack with his items. Now to get out, that was the hard part. There was the woman who at a desk in front of the fitting rooms whose sole purpose was to make sure no one tried on more than five items. _She probably could care less if anyone stole from this store_, Dante figured. The easy way to do this was to wait until she turned her back and run right past. Dante knew that he was fast enough. There were plenty of times when he appeared as nothing more than a blur to most people. He claimed most, because many species of demons in disguise and some witches had no trouble tracking him. Still he had no idea of how cameras would fair.

He slightly opened the door to his stall, keeping an eye on her for his chance to make a break for it. He prepared himself to run, but stopped when the phone at her desk rang. He closed his door and pressed his ear against, honing his sensitive hearing into the conversation.

"Good morning and thank you for calling Wal-Mart. This is Flo speaking, how may I direct your call?" She was chomping on gum and giving the caller attitude as she said it.

"Good morning Flo," a female voice on the other end said, "I am looking for a customer there. Can you help me?"

"Ma'am there are _many_ customers in the store today—"

Dante was just about to tune out until the other woman cut Flo off. The female voice chuckled and said, "He won't be hard to find. In fact, I believe he is trying on some clothes right now... A boy with white hair."

Flo was about to make a remark, but paused upon remembering a boy wearing his hood to his sweat jacket up with some of his silvery locks peaking out. "Hold please," Flo said standing to make her way to way into the fitting area.

"Shit! Things always gotta be complicated," Dante said to himself as he realized that he had been made. He put on knapsack first and then the coat that he had picked out. He got up on the bench and kicked off the wall to his right, making a back flip over the wall behind him, barely clearing it. He landed in an empty men's clothing aisle adjacent to fitting room. Dante then cut across to the women's department. By then, Flo had probably opened the door to the stall to find it empty and alerted security. Dante took off at full speed, blurring past security and the elderly door greeter.

He stopped into a near stumble just outside of the doors, glad that he didn't try that in a mall. That last burst of energy that he used left him exhausted to a new level that he never thought existed. His legs ached and felt like rubber. His lungs burned like an out-of-shape jogger. A headache hammered at his brain. "Note to self: Never do _that_ again," he huffed. He regained his bearing, righting his hunched frame to its full height.

Dante took a look around once again to make sure that he wasn't being followed by any security guards or overzealous cashiers. When he was absolutely positive that he wasn't being tailed, he bounded for the nearest Metro bus. He wasn't sure where it led to, but the important thing was that it got him out of the Vienna area.

From a fifth story balcony some forty feet away, stood Kayleigh holding up a photo of Dante from her dossier. She gazed down at the half-devil running across the parking lot. "Men," she sighed, "When will they ever learn?" She backed into a shadowed corner and disappeared, letting out a disembodied giggle.

* * *

**Eric**: Chimera, did you just cheat?

**Kayleigh**: ... (changes subject) Did you know Eric writes about what he does in real life?

**Eric**: Wait, you didn't answer my question!

**Kayleigh**: (shifts eyes from side to side, punches **Eric**, knocking him out... Smiles) Make sure you visit the Poll on Eric's profile. When he wakes up, it will help him write the next chapter. (Looks over at **Eric's **unconscious body then back to reader) Reviews?


	10. At The Border

Chapter 10... a crowning achievement... plus, I haven't quit yet which is strange. But I do thank all for reading, review and all that jazz. Sit back relax, enjoy and please keep in mind that this chapter comes from the votes that you the reader contributed. Give yourselves a pat on the back. You should be proud ... Great Job and Thank you! BTW: If you wish to see what came in second place and so on, please feel free to visit my profile.

**Silentdeath Bringer****:** You shall see soon, my friend.

**Mariposa-Princessa****:** Fan service to the rescue!

**lost son of sparda****:** You got the basic idea there... and oh the surprises you shall see.

**Phant0m****:** Thank ya kindly! Please don't kill me when you see it.

**Satanic Park Of Madness****:** I didn't mean to ruin your fun. Okay I closed my eyes and ears... so now I'm not witness to it.

**GryronInferno46****:** I aim to please. You're right... I do think he'd look ridiculous as a ginger... but I'm leaving in your hands. You' shall see what the public has voted.

**radioactive .racoon:** LOL. Your secret is safe with me.

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Chapter Ten: At The Border

Gabriel glanced at his watch as a confident smile graced his features. The second hand had just lapped the minute hand and the face denoted that it was quarter after eleven. The sun beamed high and bright in the sky, despite the frigid temperatures. Maybe it was that he was quite literally within his element or maybe Gabriel was sure that no one would see through his perfect disguise.

He kept the truth in the back of his mind. The truth was that this whole exercise was meant to help Dante realize the importance of patience, especially for clandestine operations. Even so, Gabriel was sure he would win; as if he treated it like a simple competition.

The cockiness seeped into his subconscious and guided his actions. He even dropped his guard as he took his time hiding in plain sight. Still as he relaxed and took in the sights of the monuments and museums that were not far from their original starting point. He found a park bench to sit upon and reviewed the contents of his dossier for good measure. He had seen them before and there was the probability that he could recite the pages verbatim. For all intents and purposes, he knew his target. He slid a page out of the folder and read the heading to himself, 'Kayleigh Warner codenamed Chimera.' He had no idea why he had been fated to have such a formidable opponent. He had honestly wanted to see what Dante had to offer... sans the unique outburst. Maybe not so unique. Gabriel knew better than anyone else what it was like to live with a caged tiger deep inside.

His attention returned to his papers and he continued to read, until he felt a kind of static buzz in his mind. It something so slight, that a normal human being would simply ignore it. Gabriel could not and would not. With the static came a stream of whispers that faded in and out of existence. He trained his ears harder, trying to zero in on what was being said. His surroundings, the park, the ambience seemed to fade away until a clear and distinctly female voice said, "Know your enemy."

Before he knew it, Gabriel heard himself utter in response, "Yes... Mother." His mind began to wander back into the past, eight years ago as a boy of nine.

"_Mind your mother now," the same voice came across his earpiece communicator, "Take down the enemy." Her voice chimed softly like a bell. It was sweet and so soothing. He was almost certain that the woman who accompanied him through all of his missions, in sound only, was not related to him in anyway. He had so pined for a family of his own, that he continued with the charade, if only for comfort. What was the harm in pretending?_

"_Yes ma'am," he whispered back._

_He stood from his crouched position and took up a handgun from his holster. His tiny, hands quaked around the handgrip in excitement. He remembered a time where his guns were much too heavy to handle; now at the age of a mere nine years, they were almost an extension of his being._

_He spied a clearing ahead of the jungle that he stood in. Gabriel spotted four guards deep in conversation as they sat around a small pit fire. Gabriel dropped to his belly, snaking through the vegetation to get a closer look._

_He did not know much about this place or what exactly a __coup d'état__ meant. All he knew was that this country was incredibly humid during the day, had mosquitoes the size of cockroaches, and that he was supposed to do his job quickly and quietly _before_ the military showed up. Ousting a corrupt dictator alone was a tall order for such a little boy, but he knew that he had to prove himself to Mother and to the Pentagon._

_Gabriel slithered closer, creeping towards the campsite unnoticed. "What are they saying," a male voice came across his earpiece._

"_Nothing pertaining to the dictator's whereabouts," he quietly replied. He listened closely._

"_Mira, mi chicka," he heard one soldier say as he passed a photo around._

"_Ah... Muy bonita__. ¿Oye, adónde van?," another commented._

"_¿Qué? Tengo que mear," the soldier answered. This was Gabriel's chance. The uniformed man stalked off into the shadows in Gabriel's direction. The boy waited for the perfect moment to attack. The man unzipped his pants with one hand and produced a liquor flask with the other. He sipped at as he guided his stream of waste into the grass, inches from where Gabriel hid. Soon the man's flask ran dry. He angrily tossed the metal container at a tree. Just as the soldier finished relieving himself, Gabriel sprung upwards, striking the man in the throat so that he could not cry out. He then made a powerful blow into his solar plexus. The man's eyes bulged before he folded over neatly and collapsed to his knees. Gabriel finished him off by swiftly twisting his neck with a loud snap. The boy then got a better look at the man's face and morphed into his likeness._

"_I'm going into the campsite," he quietly announced into his earpiece, "I will be in radio silence for forty-five seconds." His voice took on the timbre of the drunkard soldier, no longer swimming in childish innocence._

_Gabriel trekked back to the campsite wearing the face of the soldier. He stayed quiet, listening to the men talk about the girlfriends or the children they left behind._

"_¿Y tu? ¿Qué tal, Hugo?," one of them addressed the disguised Gabriel. All eyes were on him. He was sure that if he answered, the men would know that the man before them was not _their _Hugo. It was in the manner of speaking that they used. It was so informal. _

_The only option was to take them out before they could do the same to him. Gabriel drew his weapon faster than any human eye could track. In the blink of an eye, two shots rang out killing two of the soldiers at the campsite. Gabriel then launched himself off his perch and over the fire into the chest of sole surviving soldier, knocking him backwards. He had already transformed back into his original form. He sat atop the frightened soldier, staring down with his once shimmering emerald orbs displaying into a set of icy blues. Gabriel was quiet for a long time listening to his soft whimpers._

_"Tu eres el diablo!"_

"_Shhh," Gabriel calmly held a single finger to his lips as he said it to the man. He obeyed, fearing the child that sat on top of him. He was finally quiet enough that Gabriel could hear the man's heart frantically trying to leap out the man's chest. The humid jungle soon got a lot colder. So much so that the open flame in the pit died out. The only light in that clearing came from the moon and the boy's unnatural hues._

_"No, no _el_ diablo, _un _diablo," the boy quietly whispered, effectively further scaring the man who was at least fifteen years his senior. _

"_Do I frighten you? Is your heart racing," Gabriel slowly and deliberately asked his rhetorical questions with mock sincerity and detachment of a sociopath._

"_N-no Comprendo," he man stammered with tears streaming out of his eyes._

"_Gabriel! Do not play with your prey," Mother's voice came through the earpiece._

"_Yes, ma'am," Gabriel answered, somewhat disappointed that he could not continue with his torture._

"_Mother says I can't play with you any longer," his attention turned back to the soldier, "So; let us get back to business. __Dígame. ¿Dónde está el presidente?"_

"_No se," the man cried._

"_Aww, don't lie to me," Gabriel replied casually as a small ice covered dagger materialized in his hand, "I will not ask again." _

The man's horrid screams echoed in Gabriel's head and brought him back to the present. In the past, he had been a sadistic child, because he wanted to gain Mother's favor. And now, he would surely pay for his past actions. Thinking about made him sick to his stomach.

Back then, the only things he knew were Mother's will and her notions of right and wrong. He was merely child under her control. Still, why did he feel the need to atone for it all?

Whatever the case maybe, he was in the now and he had to focus his mind elsewhere. He shuffled through his papers again and put them away. He wondered about his sister and Dante. Had they found each other yet? Were they hot on his trail? The latter did not concern him much. He was perfectly content in enjoying the sights and waiting for them to come to him. He could only imagine the former.

Kayleigh tailed her target clear through the county and into the City of Alexandria. She watched as Dante entered the local YMCA. She kept watch of the front door from the swing sets in the playground across the parking lot.

Dante tugged down his hood as he briskly walked past the Y's front desk. It was not in salutation, but to hide his stark white locks. He made his way up a ramp and down a flight of stairs to the locker room. He was glad that the locker room had separate shower stalls and that it was empty. The last thing that he wanted to see at this point was an old exhibitionist with his junk hanging out. Dante grabbed a fresh towel from the neatly folded stacks and made his way to a shower stall. The first thing he did was read the instructions on the box of dye. The box said that it was temporary, lasting about three weeks. It was simple. Wash the hair; apply the dye, rinse, and condition.

Simple. Dante undressed and got into the shower. Some fifteen minutes later he dried off and redressed. Dante discarded all of the stolen items that he no longer needed. He gathered the rest of his stuff. He passed by a series of sinks and a vanity the size of a picture window as he moved to the exit. He stopped has soon as he caught his reflection out of the corner of his eye. He ran back to the enormous mirror and practically pressed his face against it. He ran a hand through his hair. The dye definitely took to his virgin hair, but he had not anticipated the color.

He could have dealt with blonde, maybe some brunette tone, but jet black? How did he manage to go from one extreme to the other? The color did bring out his eyes; they were bluer than ever. Even his skin seemed to be much paler. Dante tousled his hair again, and giving it his trademark style. Wrong color or not, he had to face the world with it. He pulled his hood onto his head and left the Y through a side entrance.

He wondered if whoever was supposed to hunt him had been wise to his game yet. If he had been more careful, Dante would have realized by now that he had been followed since Arlington. He would have known that his 'captor' was less than a meter from him. Dante's hubris did not let him see past the 'genius' of his disguise; he thought it to be clever, but Kayleigh was proving to be even craftier.

She quietly closed the gap between herself and the target, just as she had done in that train station. He carried on farther down the street were the County and the City met, none the wiser to the paintball gun taking aim to the back of his head. He would have taken heed to the prickly feeling at the back of his neck, his gut instinct telling him that something was not right. He would have realized that he was feeling that very same overwhelming sensation of nothingness as he did at the station and at the Navy Yard. He would have chosen to acknowledge that the once busy streets were now utterly desolate.

But then, his body had stopped in its tracks with him telling it to do so. Kayleigh had not expected his sudden pause, but still followed suit. Just as she did her shoes scuffed slightly on the pavement. She kept her eyes wide open and her mouth shut, trying not to make audible breath sounds and praying that he had not heard it. In her years as an agent she learned many fundamental facts of shadowing someone. At the top of the list was the truth that people will always follow the same predictable patterns.

So far, Dante was proving to be the exception to this rule. His actions had been hard to read, just a little too erratic to follow. Just when she thought that she had him figured out, he would make a 180, doing the complete opposite of what she expected. It was becoming increasingly difficult to come up with new strategies on the fly.

Playing the game with her brothers had been fun and easy to say the least. They would follow one of the same three patterns that she had predicted. There was the option of going on the offense and hunting down the others, which they rarely did. Another was to find a suitable disguise and lie in wait, a tactic of the lazy. The major drawback to it was that if they were being tailed prior to the quick-change, the masquerade was useless. The final option that neither of them used was to cower in a corner and _hope_ that the others finished each other off first.

She believed that Dante, like her brothers before him had chosen option two, putting way too much trust in a singular stroke of genius. She thought it was a genetically selected tactic... well save for her. Maybe it was chromosomal, since only the males seem to opt for it.

She sure had him figured, that is until he whirled around to face her with his gun drawn.

"Looks like I'm being hunted by a chimera," he smirked.

"Love the Emo hair," she replied in mock sincerity, "Looks good on you. I wondered how long it would take you realize that I was here."

"I'll admit that you threw me for a couple of miles back there. But I figured that if I pretended to continue with business as usual, I'd hit the Jackpot sooner or later."

"Good to know that you weren't completely oblivious. That just might make you _useful_."

"Oh? How so," he quirked an eyebrow.

"Well... we can play this one of two ways," she began as she stuck out her pointer on her left hand as her right danced closer to the trigger, "You can help me track Gabriel either by choice," she then stuck out her left thumb, "or by force."

"Don't count me out just yet, babe." Dante then leaned in and introduced his own possibility, "What if I chose neither?"

Kayleigh cast her eyes to the ground and sighed dramatically, "I hoped that it wouldn't come to this. Must you make things so difficult?"

She brought her gun down, almost as if she was ready submit. From there, she whipped it upwards as she fired, not taking the time to aim. Dante did the same, causing his round to cancel out hers.

"Okay," she grinned as she twirled the barrel into her hand, leaving the handle exposed. Kayleigh rushed at Dante with incredible speed, gun ready to pistol whip him into submission. He easily dodged to the side and readied his own paintball marker to send her out of the game.

Just as his round exited out of the barrel, she disappeared into a mist of noir and magenta. She then materialized behind him. He could barely process what was happening, before he felt the cold pistol barrel pressed against his temple. Back to that old familiar position. From there he could hear the inner workings of the mock gun as the springs stretched and pulled as she slowly squeezed the trigger. She was going to fire right then and there!

"I heard that non-lethal rounds can be very deadly to humans, when fired at point blank range," her voice was eerily cheery. "I wonder what it will do to you. Last chance," she ground out the latter.

Dante managed to slip under and out of her vice-like grip. He elbowed her in the stomach as he went down and rolled away. This time Dante charged at her only to end up tackling a wall of mist. When it all dissipated, Dante stood to find all traces of Kayleigh had gone into the ether. The prickly feeling was gone and the streets bustled to life again as if nothing had happen.

"Dammit!" Dante muttered to himself. "Com'on! We were just getting warmed up! Why are you hiding," he shouted up to the heavens, hoping that she could hear, "What are you waiting for?!"

Some fifteen miles away in a heavily wooded park, Kayleigh opened her soft cinnamon eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "Damn... and I was so close. Maybe next time."

* * *

**Eric:** (Screams) Don't hurt me! It was her fault!

**Kayleigh:** Hey, don't put this on me... but I do wonder how Dante will take it.

**Eric:** I don't know... It will be a bitch to wash out. But, then again... they'll just have to wait until the next chapter. Reviews?


	11. Gute Nacht

Happy Mardi Gras!

Wow... so fanfiction has been down for three days now? Imagine my dismay when there weren't any new stories out there or updates :( But everything is hunky-dory now. Yay!

Anyhoo... I have a few things to tell you before we get down to business. First off, I'm in the process of writing for Duality, Diable de la Lune, and Thanks for the Memories. I've been losing steam for quite some time (not that anyone cares). Updates have been slow-coming. Oh! And also, I'm going to start doing an overhaul on a couple of my stories... some may actually get deleted, because I now realize that I must have been extremely high when I wrote them. No one in their right mind writes plot holes like those... so yeah. I may need a beta, if there's anyone out there to take me up on my offer.

Okay... enough with the boring stuff... allow me to express my gratitude:

**zenbon zakura**: Yes'm... Will do!

**Mariposa-Princessa**: Okay! Just don't hurt me! This story is so far proving that everyone has an 'F' ed up past.

**Satanic Park Of Madness**: I'm glad that you are liking it... now to plan more action.

**Silentdeath Bringer**: Yes'm... right on the nose.

**Shadow-of-a-Wolf**: Cuz... you so want to do it. Like I've said before we should actually try it with water guns. By the way... when are you going to update?

**Phant0m**: So not my fault, but I'm happy that you liked the last chapter.

**Hollow Slayer** **Kurosaki**: Honestly, I thought he'd be to pale for it. But I guess everyone seems to like it.

Thanks to you all and any of you who bothered to even read... you really do make my day! I mean it! Take a bow, everyone!

* * *

Chapter 11: Gute Nacht

The cold snap that night hit fast and hard. The already frigid temperatures dipped into the low teens, threatening more snow or freezing rain. As confident as they may be, the meteorologist weren't exactly sure which it would be.

However, Gabriel was perfectly content with spending the night under the stars much like the hobos did. The boy had been used to braving the elements on his own, as any soldier that spent time on a battlefield should. God only knew how Kayleigh planned to endure the weather. Then there was Dante; cold and hungry with his still wet hair freezing on the cold wind. He still had no idea where he would lay his head.

He supposed that he could call in favors. How many fellow mercenaries had he saved in his short, but eventful life? Dante weighed his options. Still, his mind kept being brought the cons and the biggest one of all; he was still being watched. This complicated matters considerably. Mercenaries, especially those in the demon hunting business, were a secretive bunch and would scorn and shun those who would bring those secrets to light. And Dante had already been acquainted with enough skeletons to last a lifetime.

Then there were his former colleagues that did have demonic heritages. Going to them tonight, of all nights, would put them at risk of also being put into Government custody. When all was told, he had little recourse and nowhere to crash.

"Dammit," Dante shouted as he punched a nearby brick wall. A small fissure crept up its height from the point of impact. As he removed his tightened fist, revealing that some of the brick had buckled and crumbled from the sheer force. He was frustrated with it all. This had only served to compound his irritation over being bested by Kayleigh. She was right and front of him and gone in a heartbeat.

If only he had reacted sooner, he could have knocked her out of the game. But she had sent some sort of doppelganger in her place. Had she thought of him as nothing, not even a challenge? Why couldn't she face him with her real body? The thought of being a small fry pissed him off more than anything.

He knew that he had to rough it tonight. A men's shelter for him was out of the question. Sure there was the prospect of free food, but there were always the cons. There was normally no guarantee of a free bed, that he wouldn't get picked on from the cliques that some of the homeless created, and no matter how dank and 'off-the-grid' they were, shelters were always watched.

Dante realized that he'd have to act as a squatter and mooch off of someone in the process. He took care to stay far enough from the immediate city. He felt, possibly subconsciously, that retreating to the suburbs seemed a whole lot safer at the moment. He crossed city lines into Arlington County once again, hoping that catching some Z's in familiar territory would help him regroup... maybe dream up some new strategies. At least that was where his thinking went.

So, he dragged his aching body up one of the many steep hills of Northern Arlington. Minutes passed and he continued his cross-county tour. Time stretched on and he soon realized that midnight had come and gone. _Time to stop pussy-footing around._ If Dante was going to make a decision, it had to be now!

In an odd mixture of fatigue and the onset of hypothermia, his body unconsciously moved toward a two storied white stucco building in the distance. It was almost as if he were drawn to it. It stood atop a hill like a warm Californian villa with the feel of a Mexican hacienda. There were definite nods to architecture of the 1920s and 1950s Art Deco. _Was it someone's house?_ No, much too large... and Virginian mansions are more reclusive, relegated to the backwoods somewhere. _Maybe an apartment building?_ No, much too decadent. It was a far cry from the sterile steel high rises and the tawdry garden walk ups the county was famous for.

Dante closed in on the building and walked past and swinging blue and white sign that conservatively, but proudly proclaimed: Welcome to Marymount University. He watched it sway in the wind, somewhat thankful for perhaps his luck or his savant abilities – whichever that brought him to his oasis in the tundra. He dragged on to the building's main entrance and waited within courtyard, near the recessed doorways.

Before tonight, Dante would have never given a building's design a second thought. Now, he could have kissed the guy who decided to build the courtyard in this manner. On the streets, the cold winds, coupled with the tall structures created virtual whirlwinds and tailwinds, pushed in from all directions. Where he stood, the wind only had one way in and out, with the bulk of it being deflected off the balconies and the top of the stucco structure.

He shivered against a few stiff gusts of wind that snuck past the courtyard's defenses. It had been nearly ten minutes since Dante had arrived at the doorstep; ten minutes since Dante's exhausted body decide that it was time to snooze. It had been ten minutes before he heard the click of the front door and the voices that followed.

"Hey, man its getting late... pretty soon the RA won't let us back into the dorm."

"Blake is an ass. He takes his job waaay too seriously."

"Yeah, later... see you next time."

Two bodies breezed past Dante and the door swung on its hinges, threatening to shut him out. He stuck a foot into the door and turned his face to bask in the warmth of the near-industrial heater. He stood from the cold concrete wriggled through the doorway, trying not to alert the RA on front desk duty.

Dante positioned his hands and feet in something of a semblance of a backwards crab walk, but up five steps. He teetered up the final step, until he heard a voice clearing, "Ahem. What are you doing?"

Dante could think of a few excuses. He took a moment to look at the man that posed the question. He was in his early twenties and already balding. He wore a pair of pressed and creased jeans with a white polo shirt. His face, pock-marked with old acne scars, was framed by a pair of thick horn-rimmed glass as if he were straight from the 1950s. His mouth twisted into a deep scowl as he scrutinized the raven-haired teen before him.

Yep, Dante's mind scrolled through his plausible excuses like a mental rolodex. He eyed his own awkward position once more before parting his lips to say, "That party was awesome! The colors... blew... my... mind!" Dante stood to his full height and pulled the man into a tight embrace. He laid his head on the crook of the RA's neck before whispering in his ear, "I love you, man."

The man visibly tried to pull away in disgust, but Dante proved to be much, much stronger. Somehow he managed to maneuver his beanpole of a body away from the grasp of the overly handsy teenager. "Are you high," he questioned.

"I'm fine. You're fine," Dante answered as he inched closer to the already freaked out Resident Advisor, "We're together, here in _ecstasy_... We are..._one_." He put emphasis on the word, 'one' by tapping the tip of the man's nose.

"Who's your RA? What dorm do you live—"

"Let's not fight it, sailor... Blake told me exactly what you're into and he's into it too," Dante cut across his inquisition with a lusty glint in his eyes and growl in his voice.

"Wha— He told you? He is?"

"Wha'dya say, tiger?"

"I-I-I say—"

Before the man could properly begin a sentence, Dante face planted the floor.

"Hey, you okay," the man asked, shaking the boy's unconscious form, "Does this still mean that we can— you know?"

Dante pressed his eyes shut, hoping that the man wouldn't notice that he was still awake. He hoped that his twisted plan had worked.

"He's been out for a while," the man vocalized to no one in particular, "Maybe I should go get some help."

Success. It did work after all. With a bit of luck and an uncanny skill of improvisation, Dante had managed to get past the RA. How? It was all about playing the odds. The initial idea had been genius. When all else fails, pretend to be high. Then there was his impressive observational skill to bring it all home. The man was clearly an uptight, anal retentive bastard who postured in accordance to the pole shoved up his ass. Dante saw it as plain as day. Anyone who dressed like that and _enjoyed_ it had to be. He must have been a sex-starved individual or a closet pervert. He didn't need to be gay for the rational to work, but rather a person whose head was filled with _tons _of kinky thoughts. Dante was willing to bet money on it having to do with S and M.

When the RA was well outside of earshot, Dante gathered himself up. _Best to leave before he comes back with whips and chains,_ he thought. He moved down the hall and past an open steel door. He then wandered into a small common area. Inside were tables and chairs, a sink, a mini 'fridge, a microwave and a set of plush couches. He walked through the kitchenette and into the warm embrace of a couch. He closed his eyes as the television in the corner softly droned in the background.

Not too far away in the inner city, Gabriel lay in a park, near the entrance of a subway station. Sleep held firmly onto him but could not quell the nightmares that overcame his psyche. He tossed and turned, his body assaulting the frozen ground. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he whispered unconsciously.

His emerald eyes sprung open and he sat up with a start. He remained there, gasping for air as his senses slowly returned to him. Gabriel searched all around him to see an endless expanse of snow. The trees around him were closely hugged by sheets of ice. His eyes widened at the sight.

_I haven't done anything close to this since—,_ he thought. Gabriel stood slowly, fully convinced that he had somehow gone off the deep end in his sleep.

"What's the matter, darling," he heard a familiar voice say.

He turned to see someone sitting on a park bench, dressed in black trousers and a dark collared shirt. The shadowed form was decidedly feminine, as evidenced by the way she crossed her legs. Gabriel gazed at the figure, practically hypnotized by the way her white lab coat flapped in the wind.

"Not sleeping well," she questioned.

"Mother?"

"Hmm?"

"No. It can't be true. This isn't right," he breathed disbelief. Panic rose up in him. He wanted to turn and run, but his body remained rooted in place, leaving an opportunity for the woman to wrap her arms around the boy.

"You've come back to me," she stated.

"No," Gabriel's body began to quake.

"My boy, my s—"

"No! Don't you dare say it! I am not your son," anger began to overtake the panic and fear, "No mother forces their child to commit murder!" Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

This time he sat in an office, before an opulent mahogany desk. He was a child again, spinning in a swivel chair and only stopping a few times to color on a stack of papers with the crayons that he always carried with him. He suddenly stopped his scribbling and a young woman sitting on a couch near the door noticed that he had ceased his drawing and the chair was no longer groaning in protest of another spin.

"Gabriel, what's wrong," she asked as she looked up from the novel she was reading. She had only recently begun at the agency. As of two weeks ago, she was the boy's handler, whatever that meant. So far, her job was more likened to a very high paid babysitter. It was easily enough. He was polite and very well mannered. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that there was a Southern gentleman trapped in the four-year-old's body.

"Ah, nothin'... just thinkin'." She closed her book and walked around the desk to see what he was up to.

"Thinking about what, buddy," a gentle smile graced her lips.

"The picture," he absently said as he searched for a new color.

She came around a desk and spotted a framed picture that the boy referred to. She glanced at it and then at the boy again. It depicted a Gabriel petting a dog and it looked like it could have been taken a year ago.

"Isn't that you, silly," she questioned in light-hearted manner.

"Nope, that ain't me," he corrected, not once glancing away from his paper, "It's _her _son, Simon. He died a long time ago."

She wondered why the doctor and Gabriel seem so close. She had assumed that they were mother and child, but that bubble had been popped by the boy.

Gabriel continued his explanation, "She said that Simon had been sick for a real long time before God took him away. My real mama died when I was born and Mother said that since I didn't have a mama and she didn't have a son, we could be together." It was odd to her that someone so young had such a good handle on what had happened.

But what he said made sense, considering that that the boy was from a different part of the country than the doctor. The woman thought it all to be a very odd surrogate family, but left it at that.

"Hey, Miss Tracey... Can we go to the park?"

The woman glanced at her watch and said, "I'm so sorry, Gabe, but the doctor said that I had to take to your test at noon."

"I see," Gabriel looked disappointed, "Miss Tracey?"

"Yes?"

"What if I don't want to go? What if I don't want to hurt anybody? Will Mother get mad?"

The new agent was at a total loss for words.

Gabriel shot up again, becoming slowly aware that it all had been a dream. Still, he couldn't shake that his words were what had done in young Tracey. She was a lovely girl, but his treacherous tongue had let loose the secrets that caused her to disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. The Government had ways of making sure that information went nowhere; even information from a toddler.

He wiped the sweat away from his forehead. He stood from the ground and away from the light dusting of snow that his body had created during his dream. He gazed at it with the disdain and shame of a child who had just wet the bed. He snatched up his knapsack and pushed on.

Kayleigh lay across a couch in a posh Montgomery County apartment. It had only taken a few hours to find a suitable place that met her criteria as livable. It had to be relatively close to the Maryland park that she hid out in. Then the place had to have direct access to both Gabriel and Dante. It was less than a block from a subway station.

She had sent out her shadow familiars to find the apartment. The family had gone on vacation, the refrigerator was fully stocked and these people had cable. From there, it was only a matter of here picking the lock. Not bad for a day's work. Kayleigh flipped through the channels and stopped when she sensed another presence.

"What have you found," she asked it.

A familiar appeared before her and answered, "We have a lock on the target and your brother."

"Good job." The entity disappeared and she continued watching TV. "Looks like I win again this year," she confidently said to herself as curled up and closed her eyes.

The three demonic hybrids all bid the waking world good night, briefly resting their eyes in separate corners of the metropolitan area. Rest, for the _real_ hard work awaited them in the morning.

* * *

**Gabriel**: A filler chapter?! What the hell?!

**Eric**: Well... um.

(gut punches **Eric**)

**Gabriel**: That oughta teach you.

**Eric** (weakly): Reviews?


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